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Last night, for the first time, Silas came home smelling like cheap perfume.

It’s strange how babies seem to absorb the scent of anything and anyone they touch. As if they hold some magic ability to absorb the very essence of things. Then, they go about pretending that they’re just beginning to learn how keep their limbs from spontaneously flailing about when really they know all of your secrets and the secrets of everything they touch and the secrets of the Universe and wherever it was that they really came from.

Silas’s sacred wisdom aside, he smelled like he’d been out on the prowl last night. At five months?!? Already!

Truth be told, I was offended. I knew exactly where he’d picked up that harlot-laden scent. It was if I’d caught him with lipstick on his collar. And, to be honest, there very well may have been lipstick on his collar. Since he’s out for a nap, it wouldn’t hurt to go through the laundry and check. Next thing I know I’ll be sorting through the pockets of his elastic-wasted Corduroys for a phone number on the back of a receipt from the florist.

I know I am in danger of becoming “one-of-those” mother-in-laws.

How is it I’ve traded out all of my affections, suspicions, and intimacies for this little, whining brat who can’t even manage to get a spoon into his mouth without soiling himself? It’s not just because he’s cute. Oh, no. I refuse to even admit that there is some sort-of other-worldly power dynamic here. I won’t even think about it.

So, this woman with the perfume. I don’t even know her name. Silas made her acquaintance as he was being passed around from googily-eyed woman to googily-eyed woman at a drop-in dinner party. Apparently, he’d laughed at her. Stretched out his arms to touch her face. Rubbed his fingers in her hair. As if that weren’t enough, someone had the audacity to refer to her as his little girlfriend!

I’m not jealous exactly. Okay, maybe I am. Maybe it’s just that I’ve never had the experience of not only being the “one” woman, but of being the sole woman. The sole woman in existence. I mean, to Silas, I’ve been the Universe incarnate. He has known no one else. He’s madly and irrevocably in love with me. I’m beyond the apple of his eye, I’m his mother.

So, the other day, I took him in the shower. It was fun enough. We laughed, blew bubbles; I tried desperately and gently, to scrub the cradle cap from his skull. He didn’t even pee on me! We toweled off and picked out a nice, yuppie outfit from his closet complete with matching socks. It was a blast!

However, I was aware of a nagging, little one-liner that would not stop rolling around in my head. It was as if a large-breasted, round-bellied devil, with a look of power and angelica were sitting on my shoulder whispering it to me. The voice that said: Silas, buddy, who knows what kind-of women (or men, let’s be honest here) you may encounter in your future, but, baby, you showered with your mama first! You sure did! As if I had a one-up on his future lovers. As if having, oh I don’t know, carried the little guy in my uterus from pinprick to human and then squeezing him from my body, gave me some sort-of special rights over him. Bah!

What was that I said earlier about being “one-of-those” mother-in-laws?

And, yes, I’ve joked about taking Silas’s potential life partners into the kitchen and then insulting their pot roast. So, sue me.

There is just something about a mother and her son. I am working on not taking it personally when he smiles at other women. I just laugh it off when he reaches for other women’s breasts with his mouth open. I can admit that one day, if that day hasn’t already come, Silas will realize that his mom is just one of many fish in the sea. (Even if I do have especially glittery little fins.) But, for now, I feel blessed to have been someone’s whole wide world. It is a powerful, mesmerizing thing.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 24th, 2008 at 9:24 pm and is filed under Pure Raw Motherhood. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.