the pleasures of being mommed to death

While I want my son (and his wife and children) to read this someday, 
I'm not going to write this one directly to him.

Preface: I do want to be a parent. I do really really love my son. I'm not being ungrateful. I'm just being honest.

There's this thing he's been doing. I'm sure a lot of kids do it. I remember specifically one other time where he went through the same phase. I remember it being among some of the most difficult times of motherhood for me.

I seriously want to just crawl under something and hide... or maybe lick a window.

If I had to give this phase a name I would call it The Incessant "mom" Stage.

This is where everything he says starts with a quick simple "mom?", which translates in no uncertain terms to:
PAY-COMPLETE-ATTENTION-TO-ME-OR-PAY-THE-PRICE.

I have a girlfriend, Emily, who is a police officer. She and I have been friends for 20+ years. She wishes we lived closer so we could sneak out for Mamas' nights, have bon-fires and smores with reese's peanut butter cups, and get our boys together to play more often...
And while all of that is true and lovely,
today...
I wish we lived closer so I could pay her to drive over here and take my kid away in the back of her squad car.

If I wrote down every current occurrence of this "mom"-ing within an hours time, I'm pretty sure I could convince any female cop to arrest him, or at least take him for a ride to save us both.

The charges:
Adapted Parental Chinese Torture Tactic with Attempt to Drive MOM Clinically Insane

Mom? Can I watch a show?


Mom? What is this?

Mom? You HAVE to see what the cats are doing!

Mom?  Can you come here a minute... something is happening with my arm.

Mom? Where is the pug?

Mom? How do I make this work?

Mom? What day is it?

Mom? Remember that time when...

Mom? What does this say?

Mom? Can I have a popsicle?

no.

Mom? Can I get a popsicle myself?

Mom? I can't set up coins on Touch Cats anymore!

Mom? Can I call Dad?

Mom? Have you ever had a feeling like something was pushing on you, but it wasn't?

Mom? I'm thirsty.

Mom? Did you get the mail yesterday?

Mom? Yesterday means the day before today.

Mom? Can I have my popsicle?

Oh, have mercy on my soul!

I'd change my name if it worked, but I already tried that the last time we went through this. I love the kid. I do.

SOMEBODY SAVE ME