How To Know You're a Mom: Installment Deuce

As promised, I'm back with more. Forgive me if these sound (more than) a little "specific". Use your imagination as to whether or not these circumstances were actually experienced by *this mom*.

• You've been out in public with a diapered child who just filled their britches with #2, only to realize you're out of wipes. BUT, you have a glove compartment full of Zaxby's napkins and half of a bottle of water. No wipes? No problem.
• You don't panic when you hear a catastrophic noise in the next room, as long as 5 seconds pass without someone crying out in pain.
• You've lost your appetite for hot buttered popcorn, the scent of which reminds you a little too much of your breastfed baby's poopy diapers.
• You're so exhausted/sleep-deprived/delirious that you not only slept through your husband's alarm that goes off an hour before yours, but you also "slept" through yours (meaning that you woke up enough to turn it off and go back to sleep). You wake up an hour later with 35 minutes to get yourself and 3 kids ready for school...and you're only 11 minutes late to work. Consequently, you consider this to be one of your greatest achievements...in life.
• You anguish over every large cardboard box that comes through your house. You know it's good for hours of fun for the kids, but wonder, "Do we *really* need another huge cardboard box in our house?", knowing that if you keep it, eventually you'll have to have the it's-time-to-get-rid-of-the-box conversation. And that NEVER goes well.
• You have learned the hard way, not once, not twice, but multiple times that the best way to remove crayon from the dryer drum is WD-40. Removing crayon from the clothes in that dryer is more involved than that and requires a formula of Tide Coldwater, Shout, and Hot/Cold soaking/rinsing.
• Despite yourself, you still haven't learned to check pockets before doing laundry.
• You've been in this predicament: searching up and down the side of the highway at 2am with a flashlight for a stuffed pig (Piggy, as it were) that may have been left atop the vehicle you rode off in that evening, only to find it in serious disrepair on the shoulder where the pavement meets the grass. After bringing it home, you put your sewing and stain-removing skills to the ultimate test...and pass...with flying colors. You know, or something less specific, but equally heroic with respect to your child's beloved "lovey". (This was actually a *Dad* one, but it totally counts. Love you, Sam.)
• You are desperate for exercise, but have no one to watch the kids for even 30 minutes, so you calculate how many laps around your backyard make a mile. As soon as at least one of the kids is down for a nap, you and the non-sleeping kids hit the "track". (By the way, it's 12 laps. Shout out to the Houston County Tax Assessor for their impeccable record keeping on the plats.)
• You have a new wardrobe-centric way of inventorying memories. It works two ways. One, you see an outfit and you're reminded of the fun things you did whilst the child was wearing it (they rolled over for the first time, it's what they *were* wearing before they decided to strip down to nothing in the middle of a restaurant, it was a first day of school outfit, etc.). Two, you use the outfit as a gauge for remembering the date that random events took place. For instance, when trying to decide which trip to Baltimore a certain picture was taken, you decide it must have been Easter, because Abby was wearing a shirt that was 18 months in size. (And why you remember THAT, you have no idea.)