Ok, fine, I am an only child and cannot possibly deal with the concept of any other person on the face of the planet touching my stuff. It makes my skin crawl. I want to get physically abusive at the thought of it. I am insanely paranoid about it, and really have no problems locking myself and my stuff in my house and keeping the rest of the world out.
So maybe it's this possessiveness, or maybe it's a "mom-thing," but what I heard this morning absolutely set me on-edge. I have an awesome friend who is working her butt off running her own business. She worked really hard to get where she is, and she's doing great. She also has one of the most beautiful little girls in the world. Subsequently, she also has a nanny who helps her out during the day. Well, apparently, this morning the nanny said one of the most horrific things I have ever heard. She referred to herself, to my friend, as the child's "second mom." Moreover, one of her friends commented that her nanny calls her two boys "my children" to others. Seriously. She claims, in public, that these little boys are her own.
Ok, ok, I shouldn't be so worked up over this. But I am. Who does that? I'm quite certain that my friend doesn't recall the woman trading off on the contractions and pushing a year ago. I know for a fact that the woman wasn't opening presents at my friend's shower. And I am quite certain that the woman, while she loves the child certainly, wouldn't be capable of throwing a tour bus of sumo wrestlers 500 feet if the child was in danger. She is NOT the baby's mother and she doesn't get to call herself that.
I am fairly certain that my rage comes from the part of me that hates working and being away from my kid. And it's pretty much all of me right now. If there were any other options in the world, I would take them in a flash. So maybe that's why I am so upset (naturally, it all comes back to me...). I hate that someone else is helping to raise my kid. My nanny is the most awesome woman I ever could have been blessed to find. I am eternally grateful to her. But I also know that I am more than a bit sensitive about missing so much of his day and what he does, while she gets to experience it. But. She is not my child's mother. End of story.
Is she "mothering" him, maybe even more than I am? Probably. Do I hate this fact? Absolutely. Does that mean she gets the "mom" title? While she may deserve it, it's not one I am willing to share. He is my child. MY child. I make the decisions (good or bad), I try desperately to give him everything he could possibly need to be as happy as is possible, and I love him more than it is possible to love another human being.
Am I being a 5 year old? Absolutely. But what these women don't understand is that words can be weapons, just as they were on the playground. And no matter how a child becomes part of a family--conceived, adopted, informally raised--nobody gets to invite themselves in.
Now I'm taking my toy and going home.
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