I suppose it comes as no surprise that I've got a lot of questions related to this whole mommyhood thing. Fortunately, I have a handful of friends who have been inordinately helpful answering my incessant barrage of questions, (however neurotic). Eva, Jen, Dori, Lara, Jacqui - I'm talking about you.
Anyway, there are a few questions that nobody can really answer - like whether or not I'll be a quote, unquote good mommy.
Sure, people tell me I will be - but honestly, who the hell knows? And... what really defines a good mommy anyway?
I never called my own mom, mommy. She was always just mom. I'm not sure if that was her preference or if that was just what I opted to call her. I hope to be called mommy. There's something more endearing about it - and indicative that your child trusts that you will protect and love them, no matter what.
This isn't to say that I didn't love and trust my mom. I absolutely did and do. While she makes me positively crazy sometimes, I adore her. In fact, I think she deserves to be called mommy, but it's a little late for that.
I also didn't always think she was cut out to be a mom - let alone a mommy. In fact, (and she'll probably deny this), over champagne one day, she admitted to wondering whether or not she would have even had children had things been different back then. In other words, children were expected. You got married, you had kids - and that was that.
Given my own hesitation about whether or not to kid, I wholeheartedly respected her admission. Needless to say, I'm glad she opted to kid. But honestly, my mom wasn't what one would call your typical mom - let alone mommy. She didn't dress or behave like other moms. With her bright orange nails and lips, her elegant yet funky and artistic ensembles, her perfectly coiffed hair, her very left-of-center interior design stylings and her addiction to Jaguars, she just wasn't the PTA, brownie-baking, station wagon-driving, soccer-mom type. The fact that she actually participated in a carpool was nothing short of stupefying.
Let me make this abundantly clear. I am not complaining. When I was young, there were moments where I sort-of wished she blended in a bit more and did more mommy things, but what I didn't then realize was that she was her own brand of mommy. Unbeknownst to me, she was teaching me all about having your own identity and not letting others' judgments ruin your day... in essence... marching to the beat of your own drum.
I wouldn't have had it any other way.
Now, as I approach this whole mommyhood business, I can't help but wonder - What will my own little girl think of me? Will I be a good mommy?
I suppose only time will tell. Little does she know, she's definitely not getting the cookie cutter type.
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