Am I Really a Mom?

Last night I tucked in my 10month old son and headed off to bed myself. He had himself all whopper jawed and cornered in his crib. I straightened him out, put the blanket over him, and patted his bottom. As I walked to my bedroom I was thinking "I don't feel like a mom."

I don't feel like June Cleaver or Carol Brady. I don't feel like Samantha Stevens or Caroline Ingalls.

I don't get up at the butt crack of dawn and make pancakes, eggs, and have juice on the table. Lord knows my husband doesn't cheerfully come into the kitchen for breakfast as he kisses me good bye. I don't stay home all day doing laundry and house work. I don't have neighbors or relatives popping in all day long. I rarely have dinner ready before 8pm.

I am not only cranky in the morning, I am down right scary looking. I in no way look ready to conquer the day, sexy, or put together. My husband for sure knows not to kisses my morning breathe coffee flavored mouth and vice versa. I also work all day and ma tired when I get home. Because Colton is only up for another 2 -2 1/2 hours, I definitely do not want to clean or cook, I want to PLAY.

What is a mom supposed to feel like?
I feel like I love Colton more than anything else in the world. He is the love of my life.
I feel like watching him play.
I feel like listening to him laugh and watching him smile.
I feel like listening to all the sounds he makes as he is discovering words.
I feel like watching him discover grass, sticks, and stones.
I feel like watching him discover new flavors.
I feel like being the recipient of his hugs, kisses, and lovin'.
I feel like spending the majority of my time with him.
I feel like giving him the best of me.

All though I still feel like myself, I also feel a new overwhelming urge to give more than I receive.