Editor's Note:  This is a guest post from a Mom of two living in Southern California.
 
Mom, Mamá,
Maman, Mum, whatever you call that woman in your life who pulled beans from your
nostrils and did her best to fix your haircut after you did a little
experimenting with the scissors, was a pretty amazing woman. So what happens
when you find yourself in that role?

Though my children are already 10 and 5, I am still at once awed and
distressed at the thought that they see me, at times, the way I saw my mother,
provider, protector and healer of owies. 
I was reminded of this last week when we went camping at Sequoia
National Park.  Every night there was
negotiation over who got to sleep next to mommy.  I quickly realized that when sleeping in the
wild I was a precious commodity.  Daddy's
job was to keep the bears at bay while doing shots of tequila with our friend,
Bryan.  Mommy was there to soothe and
comfort the offspring as they drifted off to sleep.

While I dearly wanted to switch jobs with my husband, I was
content and warmed by my children's desire that I should be the one they wanted
to cuddle up with them.  Maybe I'm doing
something right after all.

Oh, and I do
have to say, that night after night, the guys always had a shot and a slice of
lime waiting for me when I crawled back out of the tent.