I’m not sure when I became so comfy.
Maybe it’s my softer than usual post-baby-belly? Or maybe it’s because I constantly smell like food — smashed baby food and dried breast milk have become my constant aroma… But you can go ahead and call me the ‘Poof’, the Poof chair that is. You know, the GIANT BEANBAG chairs that don’t fit through doorways and swallow you whole until you’ve digested your Thanksgiving dinner? Yes, the ‘Poof’, the worlds most comfortable human being.
I realized tonight that I am my family’s snoozing point, their ‘Poof’. If it’s not the baby, it’s the dog, and if it’s not the dog, it’s the husband… Sometimes I think if I just sprawled out on the floor, all by my lonesome, the beings would sniff me out and pile on.
I am the dumping ground for all Zzzzz’s, toots, slobbers, wet noses, dirty paws, and hairy beasts.
And tonight…I got frustrated.
So frustrated, in fact, that I passed off my crying baby to my hairy beast of a husband and plopped myself down on the hardwood floor, ALL BY MYSELF — for an entire 90 seconds. Then I was wallowed by the dog and succumbed to the fact that my boobs bring joy. So much joy that I got back up and nursed my little boy until he fell asleep in my arms. He cried and he nursed, but then… he fell asleep. And in my whirl-wind of frustration I realized that I am the ‘Poof’. One giant Poof, where all beings go to sleep.
Then I smiled. Because I am not just any Poof, I am the Momma Poof…
Yes. I get the slobbers, and the poots, and all those dirty paws, but I also get the love. All that love! The puppy love, the baby love, AND the hubby love. I get all the snuggles, all the kisses, all the laughter, and all the love. And tonight, I am the luckiest girl in the world.
Go ahead family…lay on me, breathe on me, fart on me, sleep on me. Do what you gotta do, because all I’m going to do is love on you, and cherish every stinky, slobbery moment.
*poof*
Mrs. 