Tell-tale Mom Things (Please tell me I'm not alone)

You have had to start patting your child down before you drop her off at Sunday School after she somehow managed to smuggle a pushpin and a pink highlighter in on consecutive Sundays.  And you have to wonder, where is she hiding that stuff?  In her underwear?

You immediately regret purchasing those plastic, light-up princess shoes because you know full well your three year old will never want to wear another pair of shoes again.

Sometimes you feel a little guilty for those white lies you tell your kids.  For instance, for four years running you have been able to convince your son that they didn't have a Power Rangers costume in his size.  (But really, he'll thank you later.  At least this is what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night.)

You've watched your son invent a musical instrument using nothing but a rubber band and his little sister's tricycle.  Then you took a picture of it.

It doesn't surprise you at all to see this in the playroom:

Leave it to your creative three year old to make a bed out of a flip flop and a blanket out of a torn piece of notebook paper.  Who says kids need fancy, expensive toys?

You absolutely love when your fourteen month old wraps her arms around your neck and gives you the biggest, strongest squeeze you ever imagined possible from a tiny, little girl.  What you don't love quite as much is when, a few seconds into that oh-so-sweet hug, she bites you with those razor sharp teeth right on the shoulder. 

When you decide to go on a beach vacation five hours from home with a one month old and you fail to pack a bouncer or swing, you have to get creative.  Believe it or not - this worked (kudos, Sam - I knew I married you for a reason):

You know they were just the ringbearer and flower girl, but seeing them dressed up (and gorgeous) gave you anxiety because as fast as their first few years flew by, you know you'll practically be marrying them off for real like...tomorrow.  *sniffle*

Standing in the school supply aisle excites you - way more than it excites your child.  And despite the explicit directions on the school supply list, you desperately want to splurge and get the 64-box of Crayolas that you never had but always wanted back when you were going into first grade.

Despite the fact that you don't really do birthday parties and you aren't exactly craftsy, you begin researching birthday party themes and possible favors/decorations/games months in advance.  You call it a [Pinkalicious] daydream.
 

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