I want to be Mom

and only Mom.

I forget how to be “Mom” now.

I’m a physical therapist, speech language pathologist, vision therapist, occupational therapist, researcher, advocate, and all around president of the “Noah corporation”. I’m learning a new language in hopes I will be able to break into my son’s world and let his voice out one way or the other. I’m so much more than I ever thought, or wanted, to be.

I just want to put all those other roles away and just be Mom. Nothing else.

I want to worry about the amount of food he is or isn’t eating and not panic about weight gain and the amount of calories he must ingest. I want to worry about him climbing up onto things and getting into trouble. I want to worry about him walking (or crawling) out the door. I want to worry about his naps, or lack their of. I want to worry that he’s “only” babbling and not saying words. I want to worry that he’s growing up too fast.

But I can’t.

There are bigger fish to fry. Bigger, scarier fish. And it sucks.