So say I’m your mom.' ...

So say I’m your mom.\' \'What?\' I said. \'I’m your mom,\' he repeated. \'Now tell me you want to quit modeling.\' I could feel myself blushing. \'I can’t do that,\' I said. \'Why not?\' he asked. \'Is it so hard to believe? You think I’m not a good role-player?\' \'No,\' I said. \'It’s just–\' \'Because I am. Everyone wanted me to be their mother in group.\' I just looked at him. \'I just… It’s weird.\' \'No, it’s hard. But not impossible. Just try it.\' A week earlier, I hadn’t even known what color his eyes were. Now, we were family. At least temporarily.
So say I’m your mom.' 'What?' I said. 'I’m your mom,' he repeated. 'Now tell me you want to quit modeling.' I could feel myself blushing. 'I can’t do that,' I said. 'Why not?' he asked. 'Is it so hard to believe? You think I’m not a good role-player?' 'No,' I said. 'It’s just–' 'Because I am. Everyone wanted me to be their mother in group.' I just looked at him. 'I just… It’s weird.' 'No, it’s hard. But not impossible. Just try it.' A week earlier, I hadn’t even known what color his eyes were. Now, we were family. At least temporarily.

Quotes from the same author

The truth was I knew, after all those flat January days, that I deserved better. I deserved I love yous and kiwi fruits and warriors coming to my door, besotted with love. I deserved pictures of my face in a thousand expressions, and the warmth of a baby's kick beneath my hand. I deserved to grow, and to change, to become all the girls I could be over the course of my life, each one better than the last.
I feel like Twitter was tailor-made for me, because I can do short spurts all day long. I loved my blog, but doing daily, then thrice weekly entries was really time consuming. 140 characters is perfect.
Your mother won a special reward," she told me, "because everyone had a head in her pictures. We all applauded.
My mother has always been the point I calibrated myself against. In knowing where she was, I could always locate myself, as well. These months she'd been gone, I felt like I'd been floating, loose and boundaryless, but now that I knew where she was, I kept waiting for a kind of certainty to kick in. It didn't. Instead, I was more unsure than ever, stuck between this new life and the one I'd left behind.
And that was as far as he got before i heard it. The thumping of footsteps, running up the lawn toward me: It seemed like I could hear it through the grass, like leaning your ear to a railroad track and feeling the train coming, miles away. As the noise got closer I could hear ragged breaths, and then a voice. It was my mother.