Yes, I AM Aware of how Irritating I am

I remember in my youth being so annoyed by those girls. You know the ones. The ones that start dating and completely fall off the face of the earth. It’s like they meet a guy, and all girl friendships fly to the wind. I used to be so annoyed. I was never going to be that way.

And then I met Harv.

I remember being quite the anti “mommy blog” girl. I really didn’t want to hear about your cute babies. No, I didn’t think your child was the cutest I had ever seen. No, I didn’t really want to hear about what Jimmy ate for supper and how he was on the verge of crawling. And no, I did not want a play by play of his toilet tutorial. I wondered why you were blogging about it, talking to me about it in the supermarket, using facebook as your personal play by play for the on goings of little Susie. I wasn’t going to be that way.

And then I had Sam.

I get it. I get it people. I. GET. IT. And I am now one of you. It’s all I want to write about. And Sam is all I want to talk about. I want to share with you how he is having trouble napping, and how he is on the verge of crawling, and that he is really struggling with tooth #5. I want to blog about his every action, and ask you if he isn’t just the cutest baby you have ever seen?! I want to post pictures and have you tell me how cute you think my baby is. I want to share how I feel like a horrible mother, because I let Sam roll off the bed this afternoon. Right off the bed. A big thud. And a big wail. I want to tell you how I am still, hours later checking him for broken bones and signs of concussions. And how I am still apologizing to my little Sammy for being a bad, bad Mommy. I want you to tell me that it's ok, and that the same thing happened to you. (And really, you probably have already told me, and I may have glazed over at the time.)

And now I am apologizing to you. To all the mom’s out there. I was wrong. And I want to hear about it. I want to know everything. I search for your blogs on line and happily read about little Jimmy and his daily adventures. I bookmark you as my favorites. I delight in meeting you in the grocery store, or in Tim Horton’s, as we compare baby ages and names and laugh over our matching Nestle diaper bags. And I am sorry.

And I know…to some…I am completely irritating. And I know I am. And I am sorry. I am aware. And I am sorry.

Oh, and one more thing….Isn’t he the cutest baby EVER?!?!