I always wanted to be a Mommy. As far back as I can remember. Which was always struck my Mom as being funny because…I was NOT fond of children.
Which sucked for the kids I babysat for. I was the sitter that the kids would cry and beg their parents not to leave them with.
But, I wanted my own.
More than anything.
So, when I finally was old enough to get married and have my own babies to be mean to…er…hug and squeeze and love…
I was at my most content. Well…minus the unhappy first marriage…which kind of disrupted the contentment a little but…I digress…
Oh…I loved them. I marveled in them.
My handmade creations.
A Mommy kiss full of love made everything OK.
I kissed away the temper tantrums.
I could kiss away the bloody cuts and scrapes, before administering a character band aid.
I could kiss away the sadness from broken toy.
I could kiss away…EVERYTHING.
For my babies, their Mommy’s kiss was the proverbial antibacterial ointment…for both physical and emotional boo boos.
Until those kids started school.
And Mommy’s kiss doesn’t make learning the academics any easier.
Mommy’s kiss doesn’t help to keep the mean children away at recess.
Mommy’s kiss doesn’t insure that Mommy is going to be waiting in the carpool line.
Mommy’s kiss doesn’t solve the fact that Daddy didn’t show up when he was supposed to.
Mommy’s kiss doesn’t make all the boo-boos go away. Not anymore.
And, while it still is filled with all the love in her heart…
It doesn’t have the Gorilla Glue anymore to fix what’s broken
Mommy’s kiss is simply…
a kiss from Mommy.
Without the Neosporin.
the Mommy is left needing a Mommy kiss…
to take the hurt of helplessness away.