This morning I went to a hair appointment. While in the chair, outside the window, there sat a "mother goose" sitting on her eggs, awaiting the arrival of her ducklings. The hair shop has named her Irsula. Guarding her most precious creation, she sat so stoic, grabbing a branch here and a branch there to build her home. The true form of a "nesting" mother, it brought a tear to my eye as I think about my own children. From my observation, I found out that I am a, "full-on", mother goose.
From the time my son was born, I have rarely left his side. Diagnosed with a heart condition, we had him transferred to a hospital in NYC where they performed surgery on him at only 5 days old. The hospital was so frustrated with me because I required round the clock supervision, by either my husband or my mother, in order for me to leave my child and go get the rest I needed. The nursing staff was more than qualified to care for my son, but I needed to have him "feel" that there was someone right by his side that loves him and will protect him. Well, almost 5 years later, the mother goose in me has not changed.
My son was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder at the age of 18 months. He did not speak an intelligible word until almost 4 years old. During that time, we used pictures and my gut, that voice inside of me, to know what he wanted or how to help him. Though he is doing phenomenol, he is entering kindergarten and mother goose (that would be me), is still hovering with passion, concern, and hope to make sure he gets what he needs (therapy wise). Oh the poor souls that have to deal me. When it comes to my kids, I am a passionate person and no one better mess with them.
So for today, the question I ask:
Are you a mother goose or a goose that happened to become a mother?