Mom Things - But it's not Wednesday

Not that anyone has this marked on their calendars as a recurring Wednesday event, but I will not be at a computer tomorrow.  I will be pulling off a surprise (details to come).  It's not a recurring event on my calendar either, but I'm afflicted with the OCD.  So here are the Mom Things, a day early.

You hear a blood-curdling scream from your infant in the other room, but don't worry one bit.  You know that scream well; your husband is just cleaning her nose.

You have sacrificed the tips of your fingers to remove an inedible object from your baby's mouth.  She might only have 4 teeth, but those things are razor sharp.

Despite what all of your "good parenting instincts" told you, you've given your child a pill bottle to play with on an unexpected long car ride.  You figure as long as you hear it rattling, you're safe.

You've laughed right at your three year old's trouble with verb conjugation.  For example:
(baby cries)
You:  Abby, what did you do to Sarah?
Abby:  Bite her.
You (surprised):  You bit her?!  
Abby:  No.  I bite her.

You've been asked, while riding in the car, to turn the radio up to drown out your singing, and you're not sure at what point your voice became so offensive to those kids of yours.

Given the choice of all of the restaurants in your metropolitan area, you know that your kids will choose Bojangles Famous Chicken 'n Biscuits.  At least they're cheap dates.

Springtime arrives and you roll the windows down for some fresh air on the drive home from school.  You forgot how much fun that was for the kids.  You also forgot how well it drowns out all of that noise from the backseat (wink, wink).

You've nervously flown through turbulence with a toddler or preschooler next to you squealing with delight as if they're on the world's best roller coaster.  Just another reminder of the innocence of the young.  (And perhaps, that ignorance really is bliss.)

You cringe when it comes time for the school fundraiser.  Not only do you not want to buy $20 per roll wrapping paper, but you also don't want to peddle it to other people.  Then there's the additional pressure from your brainwashed child who might win a ride around the school parking lot in a limo if you sell 200 items.  At the very least, they want the inflatable beach ball you get for selling 10 items.  The concession - you donate cash to the school and take a trip to the dollar store for a beach ball.  Fair enough.

You've totally decorated the kitchen table with a vase full of freshly picked dandelions.


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