"That" kind of a mother

On Sunday, I realised that I have turned into 'that' kind of mother.

You know the kind. The kind that can't talk about anything but their child. The kind that thinks their kids ability to slobber all down their front is national news. The kind that talks publicly about their child's bowel movements. The kind that thinks everyone else finds their son/daughter as adorable as them.

Yes it's true. I noticed it when I was talking to a family member at my parents house and made the mistake of looking into their eyes while talking. They couldn't hide that look of bordem that flashed across their eyes while I droned on and on about John Geoffrey.

So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry to all those mothers I judged before for doing this. I'm sorry for all the conversations I didn't get involved in because I couldn't bear to hear about nappies and loads of laundry and vomit and teething. I'm sorry for not being more patient or interested or kind. I'm sorry. And I get it. Now I get it.

And while I never wanted to be 'that' kind of mother, now that it has happened, I'm not sorry about that bit at all. I'm not sorry that I'm completely delighted by my child or by my life, or that I want to talk about him all the time. I love being a mum and I love my son, and I love all the little milestones and things we are experiencing and learning together.

I'm so very very grateful for the life that I have. It is amazing to think that just a few years ago I had thought that marriage, let alone motherhood, was not going to be part of my plan, even though I wanted it to be. And then the love of my life came along and bam, everything changed. I'm very very lucky and I know it. I love my husband, I love my baby and I'm so very very thankful for them.

And now, if you'll indulge me, I'm going to continue to be that kind of mother :)