You know you’re a Mother when:
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You take Scholastic Book Orders (and a pen) to
the bathroom with you as your reading material.
(Also, to check something off of your never-ending to do list. Because,
frankly, I would rather fill this out sitting on the can, than during my 15
minutes of “free time” before going to bed.)
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You notice something brown on your finger and
you smell it. For many reasons. First, to find out if it is poop or not. And
secondly, to find out which child’s poop is on your fingers. If it’s the baby’s poop that’s one thing, but
if it’s your 5 year old’s poop- there may be a problem. Normal people would just wash their hands and
move on with their day. A mother knows,
that something brown on your finger could really put a damper on your
afternoon.
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When having two hours means, you “only have two
hours.” Two hours to someone without
tiny tots seems like a decent amount of time to get anything done. With two kids- I’m like- “Sh*t, I only have
two hours to feed two kids, bathe two kids, do flashcards and 30 minutes of
reading for school, pack a school lunch, lay out clothes for the entire family,
vacuum, clean the kitchen, do the dishes… oh and all while fitting in time to
nurse my parasite (otherwise known as Ryder) before bedtime.” Man what a mother
wouldn’t do to have to “kill” two hours.
-
You become accustomed to little tots making eye
contact with you while they poop, and while you poop.
-
You start to wear character shirts. I shit you not, the other day I purchased a
Captain America shirt- for myself- because I thought Chase would think I’m
cool. His response (As I’m standing in
front of him in my coolest “Cool Mom” pose, awaiting the ever changing approval
of my child), “Your shirt is kinda lame, but you can still wear it.” Oh, and I purchased Halloween pants. No, not a costume, leggings with gigantic jack-o-lanterns
on them. Cory suggested that I refrain
from wearing them out of the house, or in the daylight. I think these people forget that I do, in
fact, purchase clothes for 4 family members.
My style can’t be that “lame.” Because if it is, theirs is too. I remember the day when I used to purchase
cute outfits to wear to the bar in the hopes of not having to buy my own drinks.
Now I’m trying to impress a 5 year old who wears Ninja Turtle underwear. What has happened to me? And when will I
return back to normal?
Oh, God. This is
my normal.
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| You know you are a Mother when you take a picture of your baby picking your nose. #milestones |
