Rock Star
by Donna Dunn

I am a rock star.

I’ve never been one before, but now that I live with two preschoolers, I know what it’s like to be totally adored. To have them rush me when I come in the door from an errand. To have them shout my name the moment they see me at the door – “Mommy!!!!!”

How very exciting.

I never expected this. I mean, before I had children I thought my children would love me. I thought they would be glad to see me. I had no idea how cool it would be to be so loved.

Of course, the rock star life of the mother of a preschooler isn’t generally all that glamorous. There are a lot of tissues wiping runny noses and food on the floor and laundry, laundry, laundry. So when I’m feeling a little overwhelmed, I have to remember that I am a rock star. I mean I have to really, really try hard to remember.

I told my mother-in-law recently that this rock star status was an unexpected blessing in having children. She told me to enjoy it now. Pretty soon, they’ll think I’m the stupidest person they ever met.

Not encouraging.

I told my husband about this conversation and he said that my kids would never think I’m stupid. But probably around middle school they’ll start to think I am sort of clueless, out of touch.

Not encouraging.

So maybe runny noses, food on the floor and laundry, laundry, laundry aren’t so bad after all.

I’ll have to think about it later. My adoring public — of two — is calling. It’s good to be a rock star.