Tonight I am without my son. He is sleeping out at his father’s house. I don’t normally allow my son to sleep out because my motherly instincts simply don’t agree with it. Ever since finding out I was pregnant with my son almost three years ago, I have become insanely protective of him. I have this yearning desire to be with him as much as I can. Don’t get me wrong, I do adore my “alone” time when I can catch it that is, but for all intensive purposes, I thoroughly enjoy not only being a mother in its entirety, but also simply being with my son. There really is no other male that I could even fathom spending as much time with.
I love the way, at almost three years old, that my child adores me. I love that mellifluous little voice that calls “mommy” when he needs something. I love his scent. I have it running through my veins. I could pick him out of a crowd of billions of little boys even if I was blindfolded. I love wiping the snots that drip down his cute little nose with my back of my index finger. And I even love the way he wipes his snots all over me, and even smiles when doing so.
So many motherly emotions have taken precedence over everything else in my life that it baffles me how I survived and actually lived prior to giving birth to him. That beautiful, sweet, and luscious smell of a newborn had me from the time I pushed him out. My arms became iron clad…nothing was going to harm my child. My entire being protects him like an invisible force field utterly impenetrable from the outside. A United States Marine couldn’t pry my son from me if he tried. Motherly love, there’s nothing like it in the world.
So for tonight, I will try and enjoy my own company for a change. While I do enjoy my solitude, I enjoy mothering my son so much more.