You 'Da Bomb Mom

I know it is a little early in the day for a lunch break. I could not sleep last night and in light of that it is very possible that all of today my brain will be on a lunch break. I found myself talking to myself all the way to work this morning-out loud-by myself-in my minivan.

Now, there is a common stereotype attached to minivans: Soccer Mom. Now I am under 25 with no athletic children of my own to cart around, yet I drive a luxury minivan....

I need to preface the rest of today's morning lunch break by explaining that I am a house director for a resident home for women facing homelessness (no longer homeless because they live in my home). Like I said they are women, eh hem, therefore, they are adults. Some would call my position being a house parent. I am not old enough to be any of these women's mothers. For the record, the average woman who comes through my home is older than me, so I go by "house director"... Although yesterday I was interviewing someone...rather she was interviewing me... to be a substitute house director when I go out of town. Then it happened.There is that thing that mothers do, where they talk about their children while they are sitting right next to them as if they can not speak for themselves and as if they are not sitting right next to them. I found this happening yesterday as I explained our home to our potential sub: "She likes to cook out, well she likes to eat grilled food-she's afraid of the grill though..." "She is very talkative and very friendly and she will help you set our alarm at night. You will find her sitting at the computer doing research often because she is a self-starter and productive." My Resident was sitting right there. I had to apologize after Potential Sub left for talking about Resident of home as if she is an infant. I am astonished at these mommy type things I am sliding into... I am house director not a house mother!

OVEREXTENDED Preface concluded.

On the way to work this morning Christian Radio Station was choosing the winners for "You 'Da Bomb Mom" mothers day contest where kids nominated their own moms to win this contest. I was behaving quite normal in my minivan on the way to work this morning (yes, I talk to myself every morning),  when all of the sudden the two radio hosts broke out into a "You 'Da Bomb Mom" rap "Toby Mac Style" dedicated to the mother who won the contest. It was not horrible. The horrible part was that alone in my minivan I broke out my hip hop dance moves and started rapping along, make "west side" "east side"  hand gestures as I drove up the highway, bouncing in my drivers seat, steering hands free (which probably looked more like I had some debilitating form of carpal tunnel than anything...) Suddenly I imagined my future children in my minivan rolling their eyes at me and covering their faces mortified that I am their mother...I got a real kick out of embarrassing my imagined children and had a real moment of identification with my own mother and appreciated her more than ever. I am not sure if it is the house directing that is bring out this awkward mother side in me... but all I can gather from this morning is that it's getting worse. ;-)