Monday is Momday

I have unofficially declared Mondays to be the day that I talk the most about my life as a mom.  It's sort of on purpose.  Mondays are usually a grind for me, and my mood is not always cheerful.  What better way for me to perk up and smile than to talk about the adorable boy who calls me Mama?   I could talk about my kid all day long, and I'm not a bit sorry about it.  He's such an interesting creature, he was a long time in coming, and the fact that I carried him in my belly for seven months just plain amazes me.  All the things I've done in my life, and I still get to be someone's mom?  Bonus!

Having come lately to the Mom-table, however, I have an awareness that other people want to talk about their babies, and other topics, as well.  After all, reciprocity is the heart of friendship, and since I'm a person who takes a bit to warm up to someone, I treasure the friends that I do have.  If I'm having lunch with a friend, I make a point to ask about things that I know she is interested in, like her job, pets or her latest shopping expedition.  And yes, her kids, or grandkids. Some of my coworkers have been men, and we mostly talked sports, television shows, movies, and pets.  I try to keep up with what's going on around me and stay grounded to keep myself from being so mom-centered. Because it's a slippery slope, having such a narrow focus on your life.  Mama is only one of the names I respond to.  

So if you were to meet me in public, or talk to me on the phone, I would likely keep my mom-chatter to a minimum.   Or try to, anyway.  Sometimes I need reminders. I get carried away, especially after a long weekend.  If a person mentions that I've been talking about my son for a bit, I'll apologize.  Not because I'm embarrassed by my child, or embarrassed to be a mom.  Never, ever think that.  I'll apologize for being a conversation hog.  I'll apologize for being selfish and thoughtless.  I'll apologize for monopolizing my friend's attention.  I'll apologize for being rude.  But I'll never apologize for being Zane's Mama.

Besides, he's a better cook than I am!

Larry is worse than me about going on and on about Zane. He's a geek, and geeks tend to immerse themselves in what interests them.   He can't help it--he loves being a daddy, and he's not ashamed to talk about it.  Occasionally, I have to kick him under the table, or give him the "Look", and he always says the same thing:  "WHAT???!!!"  Because Larry doesn't even realize that he's been going on and on about his child, so much so that his audience has passed out because he's sucked all of the oxygen out of the room.  Larry also doesn't pick up on subtle social cues when he's in his "Zone of Zane", and so I must resort to Level 2 social cues, such as the kicking and the glaring.  There have been times when I have had to lean over and whisper in his ear that he needs to start asking other people about their children(Level 3), but Larry's getting better at reining himself in a bit. 

We are all works in progress.

So if you like, feel free to share a story about YOUR little bundle(s) of joy, be it of the two- or the four-legged variety.  Or post a link in the comments to your blog post, and I'll read it. Maybe one of these days when I have some free time(HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!) I'll figure out how to do that linky-thingy and come up with a meme.  But don't wait on my limited interweb skills, because I'd still want to hear some good, wholesome bragging on your precious angels.  Dish it up!