Who's Your Mama?

Six years ago, Brad and I were, not so discreetly, admiring someone else’s kids while eating sushi, and, on the way home Brad said, “Don’t you think it’s about time we had some of our own?”

“Now?” I replied.

“Well if not now, when?”

“I don’t know. Next year?”

We’d been together seven years and married for four when this conversation took place. We were really just buying time.

“You do realize,” he said, “That even if we were to have a baby tomorrow, I’ll be 72 years old when that baby’s my age.”

“Your right. Let’s do it.”

We didn’t have a baby the next day. We didn’t even try. After spending our whole adult lives trying not to get pregnant, it was a little freaky making the switch. Instead, we tried the following day, which was Mother’s Day. We didn’t get pregnant. We spent the rest of the month getting used to unprotected sex, and then, I got pregnant on Father’s Day. 

Kind of an equal opportunity pregnancy. So Tizzy.

Then, 8 1/2 months later, T made me a mother on what would have been his due date if I had gotten pregnant on Mother’s Day. 

Again, So Tizzy.

Fourteen months later, Zip pushed his way through while we were still debating the issue of when to try for a second. He didn’t even give us the pleasure of unprotected sex, he just said, “Listen you two, I’m a Sagitarian – due the week before Christmas – and I’ll be damned if I’m waiting another year you to decide that your ready.” 

We haven’t had a dull moment since.

They come in with personalities all their own, these little people – Some through us, some to us.  All we can do, is raise them to be the best selves they can be and then send them out to face the world on their own. Or so they imagine, because once mom, always mom.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you Mom’s out there. And, to all you Dad’s, Happy Father’s Day a month early.