I know you think I wear yoga pants and athletic T-shirts because I spend my days doing pilates while my kids practice Mozart on their harmonicas. But, I’m here to tell you, I wear them because they’re stretchy.
Whenever I don’t have a pile of laundry, I do teach them French and help them draw Rembrandt replicas with crayons. That hasn’t happened yet, but I’m projecting by the time they’re in their 30s I’ll have reached the bottom of the basket. Pretty excited to get started.
I have gone kid-deaf.
If my husband and I go anywhere together and he’s driving, I’m going to use that time to jam to tunes and pluck my eyebrows. Obviously. But, after a while I can feel his raised eyebrows boring into my soul. It really messes with a girl’s mojo. Finally the hints become far too unsubtle to ignore. “What?”
“THE KIDS.” Says husband.
“What?” I ask again.
“I’m DRIVING, can you DO SOMETHING?”
It is only then that I notice the screaming in the back seat. It has something to do with a receipt they found on the floor and who should be the proud owner of such a treasure. I try to explain that my ability to “tune-out” is a learned skill, but he doesn’t want to be my student.
There is only one reason I’m wearing a parka at school pick-up in the spring.
It wasn’t a bra day, it just wasn’t.
I have friends who don’t drink coffee.
I literally cannot comprehend this lifestyle. My parenting strategy is to try not talking until I’m caffeinated. I once was told that an apple gives you more energy than a cup of coffee. Hmmm. First of all, an apple only gives me enough energy to eat two toasted cheese bagels. Secondly, I tried it, and if apple energy makes your body feel like lead, and your mind feel like applesauce, then I had it.
Also, I’m contemplating getting a tattoo across my chest that says, “Coffee is my life.”
If I get dressed and put on makeup I’m going to go somewhere.
Even if it’s the post office or the hardware store, I need witnesses. I got dressed and wore clothes today. You’re welcome. Also, next time you see a mom who is clothed and makeup-ed, take a moment to appreciate it. Maybe offer to take her picture and post it on Instagram #hottie. She meant to get out of the house at 9 a.m. and it’s 3:45. She needs the affirmation.
Kid food is the best.
There is one reason I stoop to the level of chicken nuggets “for the kids.” That one reason is so I can accidentally eat 15 of them. Why are they SO GOOD?? Okay, so I don’t buy all these things all the time (don’t judge), but let’s be real. HOW epic is macaroni and cheese? Enough said.
It is real. I have lost my mind to mom-brain.
My friend forgot her name one time when she went to sign a receipt. It takes me ten minutes to remember my kids’ birth years and it involves a lot of counting. When people ask what I’ve been up to, I stare at them blankly until they’re uncomfortable. I’m not trying to hypnotize them… I’m trying to recall my week, and yeah, I got nothin’.
Socks are my nemesis.
Where are they? It doesn’t matter how many I buy. And I’m long past “matching.” Mismatched socks is like a thing in our house, but when I’m bargaining with my 8-year-old boy to “just see” if his 4-year-old sister’s socks will fit … things have gotten desperate. Hi, I’d like a subscription to a 100 new pairs of socks per month. One size fits all for ages 2-30. Thank you.
Time-outs are for me.
Obviously. I would think this would be a given, but you never know. Time outs are for me to sneak chocolate and watching a couple YouTube videos with adult language. Also, bonus, they come out with better attitudes and so do I.
I am that mom.
When a group of kids is walking down the center of the road, it’s no longer adequate to wait until they notice me and slowly maneuver around them. This calls for a pull-over discussion about the best ways to stay alive. When there are some supervision-less children dropping the F-bomb and twenty pound rocks off the dock near other kids heads? No problem. A mom-lecture is needed, and I can deliver. It’s like a new specialty of mine.
I like my job.
Dear stranger who is so thankful to not to live my life, you seem to think I got coerced into spending my time with small children. It may shock you to know that my husband doesn’t lock me in my house each day. I hang out with these little people on purpose. I might not always be a stay-at-home mom, but for now, I chose this.
They are “busy,” but they’re also precious and hilarious. Exhausted as I may be, I’m exhausted in a pretty wonderful way.
This post originally appeared on Wonderoak