The Love and Hate Life of Momma

I see Momma typing quietly over at the computer from the other side of the room where I lay in my cage, or playpen as she likes to call it. The house is so clean that you would think a guest of royal descent were about to walk through the door. She seems completely ignorant of my presence for over a second now so of course, I know that this is the perfect time to let out my signature ear-bleeding cry, with added salty tears for that special touch. Immediately that grabs her attention as she looks over towards me with full responsiveness. She stands and walks over to pick me up.

“What is it Bunny Boo?”

My plan a complete success I give a sweet smile and coo at the attention I’m now receiving. Seeing this she gives me a smile as she shakes her head playfully and takes me over to the couch to sit on her lap. 

“Oh, you little stinker. You are just trying to get some attention huh?”

Well duh, and succeeding I might add. I don’t know why more people don’t just cry out to get what they want instead of all that pointless talking with all that silly word gibberish. At the mention of wants, I decided that it is time for something yummy, or at least tolerable. After what seems like a lifetime of cuddling, though probably just a few seconds, I give a little cry to indicate the time has come for feeding. 

“Sounds like someone needs their bottle.”

She carries me to the kitchen and skillfully warms the bottle and test that it is at the perfect temperature before we sit down to start my meal. She takes this time to eat as well, but her meal looks gross and too healthy to be enjoyable, but she seems to like it. I feed in peace and give my compliments to the chef with a slight burp after a soft pat on the back. After the burping, Momma looks towards the number counter and seems to be considering something.

“Hmm, it’s still a little early, why don’t we try to get you to sleep for just a bit longer sweetie.”

Yeah right. I’m not even the least bit tired. She cuddles me closer to her chest and holds me gently but securely in her arms. The feeling of warmth and sanctuary take away any fighting spirit I had left as I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

I awaken unknown seconds, minutes, or hours later to a feeling of discomfort. Momma seems to be back at the computer but looks over as I begin to squirm in my now swaddled body that must have been done as I slept like well, a baby. The swaddle feels nice admittedly, but something on my bottom is much less so, and I begin to scream out in a slightly different way from before. Momma is back on alert without hesitation and makes her way over to me on cue as always.

“Oh, I know that sound…and smell.” She states while gently fanning her nose.

She goes to unwrap me like a fancy present and finds the gift I have left for her within my diaper. Despite the clear disgusting nature of the act she is performing, she keeps on smiling like a pro through the whole changing. She quickly and efficiently takes care of business, both figuratively and literally, and I am fresh as the springiest of flowers. We move over to the chair and sit.

“There we go, all better right? Now my Bunny Boo ready to bounce again.”

She bounces me up and down on her lap gentle, and while after seeing what just came out of me I wouldn’t have recommended it personally, I have to say that I am loving it. I smile at her, and she returns the happiness in full. She picks up a strange two that makes an even stranger sounds. QUACK! 

“Look Bunbun, it’s a duck. Quack, quack.”

I look in shock at the strangeness of the toy and sound, but soon go to claim it as my own.

“Here you go, sweetie.”

Momma smiles and hands me the toy, but I can’t seem to grip it right or make it make the strange sound. Frustrated let it fall to the ground and it is forever dead to me for its failure to amuse.

“Whoops, I got it.”

Momma traitorously picks it up and returns it to my side. I let it fall once more and as she goes to grab it again I grab for her hair. The softness it captivating and her reaction is more amusing than the so-called duck.

“Ow, no no, don’t pull momma’s hair please.” She states sweetly.

She gently removes my hands and bops my nose in retaliation, but I suppose I’ll just let her win this battle. She begins to rock me in the chair and hums a melodious tune. After a few moments I am beginning to close my eyes once more, but then she stops and beings speaking. 

“Being your mother has made my life worth living you know. You may never really ever truly understand what you coming into my world means to me, at least not until you have one of your own I suppose, but that doesn’t matter in the slightest. One day you will grow up. You will go from ducks, to blocks, to schools, to friends, to jobs, and let’s not get even think on lovers just yet, but the point is I want to be there for every second. Please just let me be there, and that will be enough, my sweet baby boy.”

I am unsure of what she means by all those gibbering words, but the love is clear even to me. I grab her finger as her voice lulls me even more than the tune, and I begin to drift off once more.

Another viewpoint.

I look over at my momma who is slumped over on the couch in her common pose of hands in head. She sighs deeply and lays down fully in an attempt to sleep. She is tired and defeated by struggles I can’t begin to understand. I cry out in an effort to take her mind off of whatever is causes her such grief. She stirs a bit but continues to ignore my presence.

I sit in an old and shabby crib in the corner of the small studio apartment. Trash, bottles, clothing, and the few toys available are thrown without care through-out the messy environment. I continue to cry, and eventually, she rises. For a moment I am pleased at even getting a real reaction, but as she gets up with a frustrated sigh she doesn’t head towards me but to the kitchen for a drink for herself. She chugs it faster than I could any bottle. 

Her bottle finished now finished and my cries persisting with just a fragment of hope left, she walks to a turn on music. This drowns out my attempts, but I don’t give up, for her sake just as much as for my own needs.

Now tears blocking my vision I can only continue the pathetic cry for help. I want my nap, I want my clean clothes, I want my bottle, I want my toy, I need my Momma!

The music cuts off strikingly and I freeze at the suddenness of the silence. My tears paused, I finally see her once more. Broken beyond my understanding she falls to the couch crying as I watch from across the room once more in silence. Through her tears, I hear the first words she has spoken to me or anyone all day.

“They said it would be so natural, but I never know what you need. Even when I do I just don’t have the will to do anything. I’m a horrible mother. Things would have been better if you were someone else’s instead of mine. I’m so sorry, my sweet baby girl.”

But all I need momma, is you.