ooohhh, you shouldn't have gone there, honey...
Let me just say something.
There is one thing, more than anything, that I hate to hear come out of someone's mouth. I hear it often... and everytime I hear it, my skin crawls and I feel my eyes start to twitch.
"Oh, you're just playing your kid card."
You mommies know what I am talking about.
You make plans to go out with friends....
You buy a special outfit from the quarters you have stolen out of the piggy bank for such occasion....
You arrange a sitter and somehow skimp on gas money to pay said sitter....
You prearrange emergency phone numbers, hospital information, and etcetera.....
You get your nails AND toes done... cause any night out is worth at least good looking nails....
You buy that cute pair of shoes to go with the piggy bank outfit... hell, you already blew money on the outfit and nails... go for the feet too, honey
You have guilt for at least three days prior to going out because one or more of your children cries when they find out that, no, you won't be home for bedtime.....
And the night of, or - let's just say - the night or two before comes... and your children start throwing up - or, get a fever, or - come down with some sort of wild, rare once in a lifetime disease, that only children get. Or, maybe - God forbid, you have moment of realization about the expenses upcoming for raising said children... pictures, diapers, medicine, new shoes, birthday parties.... It always happens.
You call your friends, with complete nausea over the fact that yes indeed, you WILL forego another night out with the gang to play mommy. You will, once again, be responsible and balance the checkbook rather than live in sweet, margarita or martini denial... You will stay home and clean up throw-up or administer Motrin every two to three hours all night long... you will take care of sick husband.... and, yet...you hope for understanding, and want to cry because all you want is a few hours of freedom.... who cares what it costs?
And, on the other end of the phone... or, right to your face... some childless person (said friend) says to you....
"oh, so you're going to play the kid card......"
and after the feeling of complete abandonment leaves your heart, and you get over thinking that you are nothing but a mommy now, with no friends besides the ones that meet you at the park to chat while your kids run screaming at your feet... you think....
Let me just tell you something.
YOU GOT IT, SISTER.
I am playing my kid card. Let me get it out of my completely unorganized purse, buried under the miscellaneous McDonalds toys, the crumpled tissues, the broken crayons and the empty perscription bottles... ah yes, here it is.
My KID CARD.
And, sweetie - while we're talking about me playing my kid card, let's turn it over and read the back....
You see, DEAR, I have wiped so many behinds, snotty faces, tears, dirty hands and crumb ridden little mouths that I got this special membership. It didn't cost anything - not a dime... unless of course, you count the endless nights mothers spend trying to figure out how to make it all work, how to afford the school pictures, the cool tennis shoes, the best bookbag, and the most fun birthday party ever.... or, unless the countless tears mothers shed while watching their baby leave on the first day of school, walk for the first time, or just open their sweet eyes really add up to much. It gets me into special PTA meetings, parent-teacher conferences, preschool parties, and the skating rink on school nights... however, there are no spa memberships, frequent flier miles, or Jeffery Dollars awarded for using it at certain stores. I don't get a statement each month, unless that is, you count the reciepts I save from buying groceries, paying the pharmacy, or buying Circus tickets. Minimum payment is next to nothing, unless you really sit down and add up the cost of raising children... school, movies, clothes, food, toys, etc. . And, the only requirements of membership are my unconditional love... even when I really want to be
What? You're right... having this card doesn't get you much... unless you count....
- the first time you get to hold your newborn in your arms
- watching all those milestones, first smile, first word, first steps
- sending them off to Kindergarten for the first time, despite shedding mass amounts of tears
- having a best friend(s) that are smaller than you, constantly want to be with you, and think you are the greatest at everything
- watching them write their name for the first time (or, in Jordin's case, just not writing it backwards for the first time... God bless her)
- getting excited about buying Christmas toys
- throwing the first... and then numerous fabulous parties surrounded by your child's friends
- watching them tap across the stage at the first recital
- play their first notes on the piano
- bring home their first "art" project
- go to the first school function
- tell the first bedtime story
- going to see Santa for the first time
- having someone with you who thinks you look great in everything
- helping with the first math problem
- seeing the first "A"
- driving carpool everyday
- buying your first size three soccer ball
- tying the first tap shoes
- introducing them to the ocean
- building your first sandcastle
- neverending mini supplier of endless hugs
- having the same person crawl into your bed at 4AM every morning
- realizing you can't sleep without hearing them breathe three doors down the hall
- buying their first matching outfits
- loosing the first tooth
- forgetting to have the tooth fairy visit
the list could go on and on, honey. And, really - I guess those don't add up to very much... unless you think EVERYTHING is very much at all.
And, to the friends who have always understood, and loved me and my girls even more... I CANNOT WAIT till you have your sweet ones to share with me.... until then, PLEASE - feel free to borrow mine anytime.
Rachael
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