This past Saturday I attended what seemed like the gazillionth Homer's Backyard Ball which is nothing more than a drunk fest in a very large pasture. I've been going for years and years, long before there was parking or wrist bands or even a pasture. Last year in fact I drank several Coronas in our White Trash Backyard Pool before even making it to The Ball. And last year I specifically remember making this distasteful comment behind a rather pregnant woman's back, "I would neeeeever walk around here pregnant. I mean, my god, that woman has to be miserable. Surely there are other things besides Homer's!" Which brings me to my next point, I was a snob. I pitied pregnant women and their elastic pants. I could never imagine entering into the slavery of motherhood when life still had so much to offer: traveling, drinking, riding our Harley on Sunday afternoons. I would never be ONE OF THEM!!!!
Last night, after wrapping up my first Mother's Day, I laid very still. I put Justin's hand and my hand across my swollen belly and we laid very still. And as she moved, I thought about how her hands would be like ours. Maybe long fingers like mine and perfect nails like her dad's. It was at that moment, and perhaps long before, I realized I would never want to be anything else but ONE OF THEM!
Last night, after wrapping up my first Mother's Day, I laid very still. I put Justin's hand and my hand across my swollen belly and we laid very still. And as she moved, I thought about how her hands would be like ours. Maybe long fingers like mine and perfect nails like her dad's. It was at that moment, and perhaps long before, I realized I would never want to be anything else but ONE OF THEM!
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