The Illegitimate Mom, i.e., "Title Post"

                I call my blog the Illegitimate Mom because it pretty much sums up this dyad of feelings I’ve had since becoming a mom a little over a year ago.  The first is that of being legitimized in society for being a mom.  I mean, I am no longer just a chick.  I’m somebody’s mom.  And, see, there’s this whole bevy of privileges that flow from it.  Like when I arrive somewhere late, I just slap my kid on the counter and say, “oh, sorry I’m late, it’s been a very hectic morning.”  And I kind of nod over at Scarlett who innocently eats her Cheerios and I get instant legitimacy because everyone knows that moms run late and it’s not their fault.  But here’s the thing – I was late before I had a kid.  A lot.  But it doesn’t matter.  Because now that I’m a mom, I’m a legitimate member of society.  Hell, I’m a contributing member of society.  It’s okay to cut people off, not brush your teeth, take up two spots in the parking lot and not bus your own dishes at Panera.  Because I’m a mom and oh, what, am I making society better by being a mother and raising a child?  I think so.  What are you doing with your life, snotty woman who gives me the eye because I took up two spots in the Wholefoods’ parking lot?

                But here’s the funny thing.  I also feel like a mom-imposter.  A momposter.  (?)  My daughter is a year old now, but I still feel somewhat uneasy in the mom skin.  Like I’m just pretending to be a mom.  I recently got a medical procedure done (I’m okay) at Northwestern Hospital and it happened to be one year and a day after I gave birth to Scarlett.  So it was hard not to be nostalgic and to think about Scarlett’s birthday as I lay on the bed.  I wanted to mention it to the nurse who was attending to me but I literally thought that she’d be surprised that I was a mom and she’d say, “You are a mom?  You?”  I was under some heavy sedatives at the time, but that’s beside the point, because I feel that way often.  I regularly imagine that people think I’m just the nanny when I’m out and about with Scarlett.  And when I’m not with her, but I’m looking at baby clothes or toys or something, I’m convinced everyone thinks I’m looking for a gift for my niece or a friend’s child, and I almost want to just tell everyone, hey, this sippy cup I’m buying is for my daughter.

                So, I guess you could say that the very thing that legitimizes me, that anchors me into this world, also feels like a sham.  And now that I think about it, that’s a pretty strange way to live.  But that’s me.  The Illegitimate Mom.