Even when you look at your child and say, “Seriously, what was I thinking?” the rewards of motherhood come back to you and you remember exactly what you were thinking the last time you knew your life would not be complete without this person.
For all her stubbornness and refusal to take “NO” for an answer; no matter who or what in life is saying it, Lexie is my reward for taking the plunge. You really do plunge into uncharted waters the first time you say “I’m a mother.” Regardless of what circumstance brought you to the title, it’s one you never held before and will never lose.
In our twenty-five year history together Lex and I have had some doozies. I won’t embarrass either of us here with ancient history. What never ceases to amaze me is that we have come through all of it with such belief in each other and love.
Being the first born can’t be easy. Lexie was our sponge, our experiment in humanity. What can she learn? How can she make us feel so alive? When did I stop seeing the wonder in life that a child exudes? I don’t harbor any guilt that we didn’t do a good job at raising her. Well, perhaps we could have found a minute to discuss money management, but since it isn’t my strong point that didn’t happen.
In 2011 Lexie published a book. It bears a single photo on the cover and is eighteen pages long. It is epic.
The title is Mummo, her name for me. In the book she writes short pieces that juxtapose “A mother” and “my mummo”. She sums up childhood memories and gives me the gift of her innermost experience of who I was and am to her.
And though she is an enigma to me, I am a very lucky mother.