The transformation creeps up on you slowly. One day you're getting married to the man of your dreams, and you are part of a "young couple." Then comes the baby. Eventually, you just "have kids" and become a MOM.
MOMs are dorky but useful creatures who carry large purses full of tissues, chapstick, expired coupons, and the occasional ancient hard candy. They wear practical clothing and buy the same gym shoe each year, so as to have four generations of the same shoe for occasions of varying degrees of potential dirt.
MOMs are in charge of filling up the back of the mini-van with groceries every two weeks, procuring birthday presents for classmates, remembering to feed the rabbit, and laundry, good gracious, the laundry.
By far, the most important MOM function is documenting every cute saying, special event, tooth growth and loss, and "first" experienced by their children.
Unfortunately, MOMs are oblivious to the fact the that their offspring have no intention of cooperating with the plans to document their lives.
Here, in full MOM mode, I attempt to capture Ryan's exit from the bus on his first day of school.
Let's just zoom in on that look of disgust. That look that makes MOM a multi-syllable word. If I do my MOM job right, I should be seeing that look a lot more in the coming years. Just wait until I show his prom date the digital scrapbook montage, set to music, that I am creating to document his naked baby photos.
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