Mommy blogs present a powerful force on the blogosphere, with impressive readership and engagement. The blog that inspired me to blog is technically a mommy blog. I Am Bossy is in fact a mother and so much more...as are all mothers. Mothers, you know you are more than moms, right?! You are still YOU! I imagine motherhood to be the magical, transforming, challenging, rewarding, exhausting life experience you mommy bloggers describe in your digital writings. I am not a mother to any humans and can't quite relate to all the mommy blogs out there, but my dear friend Celeste (Mommy, Blogger, Not a Mommy Blogger) introduced me to an amazing mommy blog, Momastery.
Glennon, the Momastery blogger, writes with truth, heart, and humor so elegantly and real that I was in awe when I read her post "A Mountain I'm Willing to Die On." In this mommy blogger post, Glennon writes a letter to her son, pouring out her truth, heart and faith and unyielding love and promise of tolerance should he one day tell her that his gay. Glennon references bible verses and connects her faith to words in a way I have never known. All she speaks is love as her truth in her walk with God. I was touched, so I thought I should write a letter, too.
You are nearly 3.5 years old and we have been together only 6 weeks short of that. I picked you out over the Internet after researching as many American Bulldog breeders that I could find east of the Mississippi. Truthfully, I found a couple of other breeders I was more drawn to than the one that reared you, but you were already born and going to be weened within in weeks. Once I decided that I wanted to bring a puppy into my life, I wanted it NOW. Your mother tends to want what she wants and typically wants it like yesterday. I fell in love with you and named you before I made the 7-hour drive to Springfield, MO to get you.
Oh, you were just a nugget of love, love, love. I was so obsessed with you and didn't understand why my employer wouldn't grant me puppy maternity leave. I hated to leave you for a minute, so I took you with me everywhere that I could. You rode shotgun everyday - we went to Plump's Last Shot to meet the girls, played with Lyla and Marley, went to Grandma's, went to parks, malls. I even snuck you into work one day. I wanted to help socialize you to this world and for you to learn trust and manners.
You passed training classes at Bark Tudor with flying colors. You are a smart, good boy! Mama, on the hand, became a bit soft on training. This allowed some less favorable behaviors to form, such as pulling on the leash, barking at me incessantly and not understanding that I don't speak that language, and jumping on people and the couch whenever you saw fit. Moose, Mommy wants you to know that this is not your fault. You are a smart, good boy. Mommy must carry this responsibility. I am in charge of setting boundaries and teaching you to be a gentleman. You see, Moose, God hit you with the handsome stick and with that comes the responsibility of acting like a gentleman. Mommy's must teach this (well, and Daddy's if there is one available for such lessons.) Oh, that reminds me. You had a human Daddy for a while and he loved you dearly. He and Mommy didn't jive after some time, so he had to move on. Please know this had nothing to do with you and he still asks to see you.
Now, Moose, some people mistake you for a Pit Bull. That's okay. Many people are not familiar with your breed. We don't dislike Pit Bulls and you are a part of a larger dog community known as Bully Breeds. So are pits, so you're kind of like distant cousins but not really at all. At any rate, bullying aptly describes the behavior that led to your dismissal from doggy daycare. It's not very attractive to "get aggressive at the water bowl." Moose, you and Lilli share water and eat your food right next to each other. Mommy doesn't understand why you would push around a young, female Great Dane at the water bowl. As a result of this, we now take more walks together since you are not welcome to exercise with your friends anymore. Mommy still loves you and treasures our walks around our fabulous neighborhood. You walk nicely now and are free to pee on anything that you'd like.
Grandma is allergic to you, but she loves you. She does. It's hard for her to not pet you. She buys you Christmas gifts and says "Awww" when I tell her stories about your antics. Mommy sometimes won't push you over in bed because I don't want to disturb you. I would rather hang off the edge of my bed than for you to get up and go elsewhere. I feel safe and loved when you are near me. Your heartbeat and breath bring a calm and a peace to my rest. When I bend down to kiss your chubby cheeks and rub your ears, sometimes you nudge in closer to my face. When you do that, I feel closer to a God that showers love in so many different forms.
Thank you, Moose, for letting me love you, for trusting me, for giving me your unconditional love, for making me laugh just when I need it, for knowing when I am sick or sad and just need your cuddles, for teaching me patience and perseverance, for loving Lilli, for being potty trained so easily, for being smart and good, for going in your crate without a fight, for forgiving me on occasional long days in the crate, for being the handsome good boy that you are and for walking this journey with me for however long I will be blessed with your companionship.
I love you,
p.s. if Mommy has human babies in your lifetime, please love them.