There are a lot of things that I've enjoyed about becoming a mommy. For someone who has balked at any kind of imposed routine throughout my life, I love the simplicity of my existence with Henry. I love our days together, swimming, running, going to the mall to talk to all of the old people (thank you Victoria). But, my favorite part so far is what I call Cave Mom.
When I was pregnant, I had two previews of Cave Mom. The first occurred when Mark and I were in Seattle on our last trip together before baby. This was intended to be a fun romantic get away, and although we had a blast, a lot of time was dedicated to finding me places to pee. At 7 1/2 months pregnant, this trumps even places to eat.
We decided to take the Monorail out to the Experience Music Project, a large museum named after Jimi Hendrix's band. We decided not to take the tour, but rather to sit (something I was great at at that time) and have a snack (another winner). I had to pee. So I waddled into the museum in search of a washroom, only to find that they were located, in visual range, about 5 feet behind the ticketed area line. So I asked the gentleman guarding said line if I could use the washroom. He told me I had to buy a ticket. I cried at him and escalated to yelling about my plight and what an insensitive jerk he was. He didn't give. So I hauled my big self around him and went into the washroom, on the assumption that he likely wouldn't tackle a pregnant women - if for no other reason than I would certainly pee on him. On the way out, he told me to have a nice day. Without a thought, I told him to go f*%! himself.
I have never said those words to anyone before in my life, and it came as such a surprise to me that by the time I reached Mark I was crying and laughing so hard I had to pee again.
The second preview came about 3 weeks later. A this point I'm more than 8 months pregnant and moving really slowly. I was walking through a small parking lot on Granville Island with a girlfriend, and an elderly gentleman in a large, cream-colored car was pulling into the lot. I was waddling across the handicap parking stall as he was attempting to pull in. I didn't move quickly enough for him, so he felt it appropriate to wait until I was dead center on the grille of his car and then blast his horn. The first REAL Cave Mom moment.
I became murderously angry. I barely resisted the urge to rip the door off of his car and pound him to a pulp, and managed to wait until he had parked. I stood right outside of his door, and once it had opened, I hollered at him in no unspecific terms how inappropriate it was to honk at a very pregnant lady. Mark stood about 15 feet away, averted his eyes and did not approach.
Since Henry was born, this Cave Mom thing has fascinated me. At first, it was completely overwhelming as I was trying to protect him from everything and everyone. Burners on the stove seemed scary, and I was certain that I needed to shield him from all of the vehicles that were certainly about to drive directly on to the sidewalk and over the stroller. I had a moment with a close relative when he was about 4 days old, when it literally crossed my mind to kill her for not giving my baby back when I asked.
I have always been uber-concerned with not offending people and ensuring that their feelings are not hurt. That's kind of gone out the window when it comes to things involving the boy, and there is a real freedom in that. Now, if someone even mildly imperils me while I have him, I become a raging she-bear. Threaten my child? There will be no negotiating, no prisoners taken. I'll hack your head off with the pen in my purse and then serve my family a spinach and rice pilaf out of it for dinner (insane laughing). A bit extreme, maybe.....but you get the point.
I've found this new mothering thing really empowering. I am his first line of defense against the whole world and I'm relishing the baseness and pure primal awesomeness that comes with that. I really like Cave Mom - I'm going to try to be more like her.
Stay tuned for my recipe for Hungarian Peppers stuffed with a bunch of yummy stuff.
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