Monday, 4 June 2012

Laughter Medicine

I look at him sometimes and I have flash backs to laughing at the pink line of the pregnancy test. What    happened?!

I’m a WHAT!? a MOM? Who me? Wasn't I just 15 years old a second ago? Looking for something to wear to school (ladies why did we wear dress pants so much?!) worrying about which guy liked me and probably ignoring the one who did.
That girl in my history class who was pregnant at 15 ended up having a wonderful life. Maybe 20 wasn’t so young? I mean, if I’d have lived 200 years ago I’d have a husband, a farm, a goat, and 14 kids by now. (My uterus is screaming at the mention of it). Now I don’t HAVE a baby. I have a little boy. 
Actually he's the one who has me. "MOM, you think any of the other mothers sing lady gaga at the top of their lungs while vacuuming?”
No, I do not! I thought that was part of my cool-young-mom charm. Like kicking butt with him on mariokart, scaring the heck out of him by jumping into a room. I'm losing my cool I think. But every day my mission is the same. Make him laugh. Make him LAUGH. Gut shaking can't breathe tears running down his face laughing.
I'm happy that my mission is more successful than not. I hate the idea of him looking back on his childhood and thinking it was terrible because he never got to spend
enough time with me. I’m not always able to pick him up at school and sit in the bleachers for soccer, hockey and basketball. Not able to take vacations or run around with him outside because I was in the hospital so much.
My mission is simple: I want him to look back and smile and say; "She was sick. but we laughed. A LOT."

Jane x0

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