Frith O’Steen

So yesterday I got to take a break from the mommy job for a bit, and while Sean and Decker went for a walk/stroll (Sean walked, Decker was strolled (strollered?)) I grabbed my latest book that I’d been sucked into, and headed out to sunny Walnut Creek for a dose of quiet and uninterrupted time. So psyched, it’s just gonna be myself and I, I’m not responsible for anyone and can just go do my thing. And then I turn to KFOG, who is having their ‘Acoustic Sunrise’, and what do I hear? John Lennon singing “Beautiful Boy”. Now, I always thought it was a nice song and all, but nothing to get all jazzed up about. A pleasant ditty. I literally start welling up and driving down the highway with tears in my eyes through the entire song! I felt so ridiculous, but now that I actually have a son myself, the song actually felt  relevant. And then I felt so dang cheesy. But…I guess it comes with the title of mom(my).

It’s just weird, because as much as the Hallmark industry would like to claim otherwise, you really CAN’T put into words exactly what it feels like to love your kid. It’s a fierce, overwhelming, gleeful kind of attachment that you can’t sum up with a mug or book of poems or such. But sometimes you hear a line in a song, or see an image in a movie, or read a part in a book, and something clicks and it reminds you of what your own experience feels like to you.