You satisfy your photo cravings by going through some oldies and you smile at things that you'd forgotten but are able to rediscover and remember thanks to your extensive photo and video archives; like the fact that your middle daughter used to flap her arms like wings when she was first learning to walk. (You're pretty sure that didn't help anything.)
You've dedicated any majority of your living room floor to "The City Project" which involved taping together huge pieces of paper and drawing plan views of buildings and roads with markers.
You're used to strange early tooth patterns. After all, you had one kid with fangs.
You've been taken for all you are worth (yes, that's a whopping one-dollar bill) by a completely guilty-looking 9 month old.
You receive endless wisdom from the backseat of your van while driving around town. Things like, "Lies are bad", "You shouldn't write on van seats with pen", and "If you run out in the road a car will smash you like a pancake." You can't argue with any of that.
You have a seven year old and a one year old who get to experience teething together. It's really fun for everyone.
Your sixteen month old has learned how to climb on, umm, everything in your house. And you more than make up for her complete lack of fear while you watch with horror as she repeatedly sprints from one side of the bed to the other laughing maniacally in the few seconds it takes you to get to her from across the room.
You had no idea that your seven year old, who eats a peanut butter sandwich every other day for lunch, would rather go hungry than let a repulsive, vile peanut butter cracker pass his lips for breakfast.
You are slightly proud of yourself for earning the title "Mean Mom" for not giving in to his picky-ness. As if you have time to fix something else for breakfast amidst the chaos of your morning shuffle.
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