...Dear Abby

As you may know, we are a family of five. That sexy bald fella is out numbered and he loves it. He never wanted boys. While I was pregnant with my youngest, he had a vasectomy. The doctor asked if he wanted to wait until I gave birth and he politely said "Shit, no! We can't stop this from happening." So, I sat in the waiting room on a Friday afternoon and giggled as I watched the men exit the building with a "cowboy walk". The wives were right there beside them, leading them to the car, and secretly snickering to themselves. Of course my SBF, bust up into the waiting room yelling "Did you know they were going to give me a shot in each ball?". I could not contain the laughter that erupted at this wide eyed man that was half doped up on codeine. But, I grabbed his arm and we were on our way. Driving home, I felt myself realizing this would be it. No more jitters over late periods. No more rushing to the pharmacy in the wee hours of the night to buy a pregnancy test. No more of me sitting on the back porch sobbing and drinking a glass of champagne while staring at a piss stick that read "pregnant". Our family was complete...finished.

Well the girls are getting older and I find myself wanting to add to our family. With a child you might ask...Uhm no. I want a dog. I envision a beautiful yellow lab running around the girls as they return home from school. He is perfect in every way. Now, I am a previous owner of a cocker spaniel named Indiana Jones. So, I have seen what potty training an animal not to piss on your bed can do to you or when they decide to roll around in horse shit on your way to work. Being a dog owner is far from easy, but I want to try it. I had the opportunity to dog sit a puppy for a week and I realized that I don't have anymore room left to love a dog as I did before. Wiping a puppy's ass at 3 am in the morning was just not me anymore. Standing over a puppy in the middle of the night pleading go potty and praying an owl did not swoop down and take him away was just too much. These girls suck every ounce of compassion out of me. It's like I am their glucose IV bag that never runs out.

The SBF has made it clear that nothing that may require food can enter this house. During our puppy sitting escapade, those little heifers decided they were over cleaning up poop. Brooklyn was horrified of the precious little pup and literally knocked herself out a couple of times running into walls to get away from him. But there were good times. I would put my little foster friend in the bathroom so that I could take a shit in peace. I was rewarded with quiet time and not countless conversations that Brooklyn and I have when I go potty. The week ended and we were back to fab five.

But not for long....she has returned...our dear Abby. Abby is a bird. Yes, a bird...a Killdeer in fact. Our love affair began three years ago when I realized there was a bird that had built a nest in the mulch around our tree. It was love at first sight. We spent the summer checking on her and watching her "husband" patrol our entire front yard for any predators. We bought crickets to feed her and named her Abby...short for Abbeville. Her babies hatched and we watched them grow. The very next year Abby, or we like to believe it's Abby, returned and made a nest in the same place and once again our life was somewhat complete again. Well, about a month ago, I started to worry because there was no sign of Abby. What happened? Had she moved on? Was she injured? I was more than thrilled when Brooklyn ran into the house screaming "Abby is back!!" I of course ignored the fact that Brooklyn was in a tank top and undies outside and scurried out to see our friend.

I was shocked to find the nest in the middle of our yard. How would I protect her? We are country dwellers. So, it's quite normal to see a fox, coyote, possums, and strays. We found a small iron table that we could place around her and still allow her to exit as needed. Thank goodness Killdeer do not attack because Brooklyn would be sporting an eye patch for the summer and suffering from an extreme fear of birds. They will pretend to be injured to divert prey away from their nest. Brooklyn visits her everyday and announces to all visitors that Abby has returned.

Unfortunately, one day we had pretty bad weather and I saw the SBF looking intently out the window. "No matter how hard the wind blows or the rain comes down, she still sits there. I can't believe it"...he says. Immediately, I wanted to slap the living hell out of him. Funny how a touching moment can lead to thoughts of violence. Why was I so disturbed by his words? Because I knew the answer...she will sit there through rain, sleet, snow, hail, fire, a flood, and  even the rapture because she is a MOTHER!!!


Oh, how men fail to realize the strength, dedication, perseverance and love a mother has for her child. "By any means necessary..."is the thought process and this is why Abby will sit on her nest while the father takes cover in a tree. I find myself looking out the window and thinking "Atta girl. The shit is hard, but you hang in there." So, I share this story because I see mothers everyday. We are everywhere and of every type...stay at home moms, full time working moms, part time working moms, single moms, widowed moms and women trying to be moms. A long time ago I made it known that we should do away with the adjective we placed before mom/mother. The useless adjective really says nothing about you and it is not needed to define who you are. You are a mother and that in itself says everything. We have all weathered storms of different kinds and are continuing to weather storms. Each storm will vary in length, type, and severity but nonetheless it is a storm. And with every storm, this too shall pass. So, I am sending an "ATTA GIRL SHOUT OUT" to all the moms out there dealing with summer madness, sick kids, cranky kids, work deadlines, Monday blues, baby blues, and the just damn tired blues.

We must come together, be more honest, and judge a hell of a lot less. I have spoken of karma and I take delight in her. My spitfire, Brooklyn, is karma from all of the times I looked at children doing belly flop tantrums in the store and thought "oh, my!" Now, I am the mother with the child in a swimsuit in the grocery store screaming for a bag of snickers with snot running down her face. Fortunately with age and the increase of the number of children I have, I don't get embarrassed. I am not the one who is recreating a scene from the Exorcist on the floor. I walk off and don't bother if people are looking. Sometimes I find myself staring at the "gawkers" with a "what,,, shit happens" kind of expression. I then let the anger of feeling judged subside and realize that my friend will visit them soon enough. Karma will knock on their door and punch them in the throat and there will be balance in the world. And when I see them the next time in the grocery store standing over a beast screaming like a banshee, I will give them  an "atta girl thumbs up." You hang in there through the hail storm that just broke out on Aisle 9. Don't fret and don't waste your time trying to find an umbrella to mask your reality. You are a mother.