Thanks to R and J at .breaking into blossom. I’ve got a great new blog in my reader. It’s called Regular Midwesterners and last week they posed an interesting question. You can read J’s response here.
Do you think of yourself as a “mother”? A “father”? Something in between? Why?
For reasons that are likely obvious, I love this question.
The strange state in which I reside and adopted my son, thinks of me as a “father”. On his newly issued birth certificate my name is typed neatly in the box marked “Father”. This is both ridiculous and hilarious. Oh how I do love the South. When we can’t figure out how to handle something, we just barrel through making assess of ourselves.
I think of myself as a “Mama”, which I occasionally also spell as Momma. I haven’t decided which version I like best. No matter how it’s spelled, Momma suits me. It’s a designation that has more flexible associations (for me at least) than the more buttoned-up options of either Mother or Father. Mama offers opportunity for invention.
I am a Momma when:
- I hold my wife close to my body so I can feel our baby kick
- I pull my shoulders back with pride when I introduce her to someone as my wife
- I snuggle Yogi close whenever he slows down long enough to allow it
- I worry obsessively about whether he will abandon milk forever when we forcibly remove him from the bottle
- I initiate a game of “pillows” by tossing pillows at Yogi’s head and tickling him to within an inch of his life while he’s down
- I tear up listening to Yogi and his Mommy splashing and giggling in the tub
- I toss him over my shoulder and dangle him by his feet asking “Where’s the baby?” when he gets impatient while running errands
- I’ve never seen two more handsome people than Yogi and my wife in khaki pants and collared shirts
While there can certainly be comfort in a script, gay families have something that is even more precious. We have the blank page, pregnant* with possibility.
* I am working the word “pregnant” into absolutely any space that will consider allowing it.