Mother's Day 4

Everyone else seems to know what kind of a mother I will be. 'Strict' 'Emotional' 'Impatient' 'Overindulgent' 'Lost' 'Calm' are a few of the labels now affixed to the swollen belly in which you lie and occasionally kick about in. How do they know? How are they so sure of this, when I suspect I have not even fully grasped or come to terms with what it will mean to have you?

Have you already decided what you will be like? Have you made up your mind about when you will sleep, what you will eat and on which side of the Israel-Palestine conflict your sympathies lies? I hope not. Even I haven't made up my mind about these things, though it would be nice if you got on board with my eight hours of sleep plan. If you haven't decided what you'll be like, why must I? And why do others feel the need to decide for me?

I have no idea how things will turn out. Hopefully, we will surprise each other (in good ways). Hopefully, I will understand if you don't like broccoli and not take it as a slight against my mothering abilities. Hopefully, you will not pee in my $500 leather bag.