Maybe I was a tree in another life.

I know that I am not the biggest sap out there, but I am a Mother. So with that, comes a new set of hormones.

Pre-child, they barely existed. (And I really do mean barely. They were so scant that some people were nice enough to say things like "Wow, you're going to be fun to be around pregnant." Or "You're going to have kids?!" And those things weren't said in the nice, supportive tone that most people get when their friends and family find out they are pregnant. Just because I wasn't the "kid" lover they all were didn't mean I was going to be the Cruella DaVille of mothers.)

(Which brings me to a small rant that I am going to keep in quotes. Screw all of you who ever said that to me. I loved the fact that I didn't fit the stereotype that you all put on me when I was pregnant and , now, as a mother. It gives me satisfaction that I didn't whine, bitch, moan or complain about all the shit you did. And that as much as you wanted to make my pregnancy as miserable as yours, it didn't happen. So nanny-nanny-boo-boo to you.)

(Sorry, I needed to get that off my chest.)

Back to my point I suppose. These new hormones apparently lived somewhere inside of me because they grow more and more everyday. We'll call them Mom-o-gens. Or Mom-mones. And this week, they are in high gear!

I just got back Wednesday night from Austin. Alone. And I can feel the pit of my stomach in the middle of my throat. I wore sunglasses all of Wednesday. Even to my last design center appointment. Inside, where there was no sun. My eyes look like they have a sunburn. (Oh, house comment = hair comment. I got my hair done today just in time for no one to see it.)

I left the Kid there with Dada. They will be coming back to our San Diego "home" next Thursday. During the day, he will get to spend time with Nana, Papa, Auntie Lili, Maya, Lola, Grandma and Mandy. So there is absolutely no lack of love being spent on him.

But that doesn't matter. Because I'm the Mom. And isn't it MY love that matters the most?! Isn't it? I'm the really, super important one, right? Who's going to cuddle with him every morning when he wakes up? Or dig the boogers out of his nose so he looks presentable in public? Who will give him that extra vitamin that he thinks are fruit snacks because he asks so cutely? Who's going to steal back his cars that he wasn't playing with, but now wants because someone else has them? If not me, who?

Then I get this phone call:

Dada: "Say hi Mama."

Nico: "Hi Mama."

Me: "Hi baby!" (hold'em back, don't do it! do. not. break!)

Dada: "Say I love you Mama."

Nico: "Love ewww."

Me: (OHMYGOD! I can't hold back. It's all over now!)"WAHHHHHH.....love you....WAHHHH...buddyyyyy....BWAHAHAH."

Then I made the mistake of trying to re-group myself and actually have a conversation with my 2 year old.

Me: "sniff, sniff...are you being a good boy for Nana? sniff, sniff"

Nico: "a good boy?"
Me: "WAHHHHHHHHHHHh!!!"


It's going to be a long week.