Beware of the Mom T Rex

Meeting the parents is reason enough to be nervous. Meeting them under less than ideal circumstances, at a moment’s notice? Well, pass the Valium please. While men would argue that father’s are the most intimidating, I beg to disagree. With all due respect, mothers are always far more intimidating in my case. I can remember the last time the mother of a guy I was seeing. It was not pretty. Funny though, it wasn’t always this way. Maybe that's because before… I was a parents dream.

Well, that was before the boobs. And the whole Playboy thing.

Back in the good old days, I was the girl next door. The kind that didn't set off any red flags. The kinda girl you would let spend the night in the same bed with your boy, and not even bat an eye. I mean, why would you? I'm an angel.

But not after my surgery. With those scientifically engineered breasts and this magnificent bra by Victoria, I may as well have been a terminator. Sent back in time, to f*ck her son’s brains out, and then destroy his life and take the rest of the future with it. Once I had my claws in him, it was hasta la vista grandbabies, unless it involved child support, alimony, and Britney Spears’ divorce attorneys. Yeah, kinda leaves a bad taste in a mother’s mouth after she kisses her sons cheek. After all, I have tainted her offspring.

Oddly enough though, even with the drastically reduced chesticles I’m still a suspect, a mother’s worst nightmare. Or what she perceives to be anyways. I vividly remember the last mother I met. Granted it was some time ago. But damn. That woman stared me down until it burned deep in my soul, like really bad Mexican food. How could someone hate someone so much that they had just met? Or judge me based on simply my looks? It’s not as if I was even dressed as a whore, it was the middle of winter for Christ’s sake! Still, the glare continued. I had been doomed from the get go, set up for failure. By whom, I didn't know, but surely this woman had it out for me.

I so badly wanted to call her on her unfounded beliefs, but I sensed she could smell my fear. So I simply smiled, and went about my business, and involved her in conversation when necessary. And it wasn't that I was even scared of her, I was scared what bearing her opinion would have on my future with her son. After all, blood is thicker than water. And in this case, the woman’s blood had icicles forming in it.

I couldn't blame the woman. She had seen the pretty girls before. The truth was.. “I'm not bad; I'm just drawn that way.” But she discounted me before I had even uttered a word. It would be my pleasure to prove them wrong. But why should I have to? A person’s actions should be allowed to speak for themselves, and I treat people the way I want to be treated. So, she would just have to trust me, or get over it. At the end of the day, it was her son’s heart I was after, and not hers.

Then again, plenty of guys I have dated say that about my mom. Never mind the fact my mother is a good looking woman; she is also a real ball buster. She’s the type of mom that stands at the door and asks potential suitors to submit to a breath/blood/urine testing on the spot. Not really, but its damn close. People have sworn she has a look to her. A look that just screams, "Stay away from my daughters you prick. I know what you're after."

Yet, somehow, my parents were always the cool ones. My mom is so cool she even follows me on Twitter, under her name “MomTrex1.” And if you have ever watched Jurassic Park 2, you know EXACTLY which scene she took THAT from. Still, they were the type of people that would welcome friends and their daughter’s love interests with open arms, at least until they proved they couldn't be trusted. Then, they often felt as betrayed as my sister and I did, and sometimes just as heartbroken. I think we forget at times that when we enter relationships with another person we not only touch their lives, but the lives of everyone involved. So it’s not uncommon for people in their inner circle to voice opinions and concerns. But does that mean we have to subject ourselves and our relationship choices to outsider’s scrutiny. I think, somewhere between the lines of self respect, and disrespect has to lie a happy medium. Otherwise, how can a woman ever come to call another woman “mom” that she has no relation to?

“A mother holds her daughters hand for a while.. but she holds her heart for forever,” she once told me. “Or at least until she finds someone with hands big enough, yet gentle enough to not break it.”

When it comes to relationships and life, I could not have had a better example than my mother. My mother is the type of mom any woman should aspire to be. The kinda mom that will bake treats for your class, but in the same breath will be in the driveway with a baseball bat if some jerkoff dude breaks her daughters’ hearts. She walks a fine balance between a best friend, and a parental figure. But most importantly, she reminds me that even on the darkest and loneliest of days I’m never alone. And really, isn’t that what we all need in life?

Happy Mother’s Day… to yours, and mine. While one day isn’t enough to repay them for all they do, it’s certainly a good place to start. Love you, Mommy.