Hate to be all brief, because that's SO out of character for me, but I'm uber-frazzled and just trying to keep my head above water.
Without any additional verbiage between here and there, I give you the Mom Things -
All of your daughter's drawings (whether the subject is you, her, or a cute little bunny) have two things in common: (1) They look like jellyfish/amoebas/octopi, and (2) They make you smile.
After frantically getting the kids ready to go one morning, you make it as far as the lobby of the daycare before your daughter throws up.
At this point, your juggling skills are put to the test as you successfully carry a sick three year old, a squirmy one year old, and all of their loose Monday morning accoutraments (blankets, extra clothes, a sippy cup, and a bottle) that you didn't have time to put into a bag before you left the house back across the parking lot to your car. These are the moments that make you feel like Superwoman.
You understand the seriousness of your daughter spilling an entire can of tomato sauce on her blankey at 10 minutes till bedtime.
While slightly quirky, you think your one year old's obsession with her belly button is cute....until it transfers over to her wanting to see everyone else's belly buttons. There's something less cute about her lifting your shirt and bearing your belly to the world.
Your three year old ate every bite of this and then got sad when the waitress took the bowl away -
...on the heels of a carnivore-for-an-older-brother, this rendered you completely speechless. And proud. (Consumption of lettuce in any form - even that of a caesar salad is a success in this household.)
Despite having 31 choices of ice cream varieties at Baskin Robbins, you have at least one child who opts for vanilla. Every time. (And usually ends up having to share with his more adventurously choosing little sister who, ultimately, after a few bites of hot pink ice cream with bits of bubble gum in it, decides that she likes vanilla better.)
Every once in a while you feel one of those phantom kicks in your belly, and it instantly takes you back to the time when you were carrying those babies around whilst all sweaty, achy, constantly peeing, and sleep-deprived. And it almost makes you want to do it all over again.
After your thirteen month old uses your shin as a step stool to climb onto the coffee table, you realize that with each successive child these adventures start a little sooner.
You have walked into your baby's room to find her crib completely empty. After images instantly and furiously flash through your brain of someone coming into your house and stealing her out of her bed in the wee hours of the morning, you look down to see her happily playing with some toys on the floor. That's when you realize it's time to upgrade to a toddler bed.
If I'm not back, hope you all have a Happy & Safe 4th!
Happily linked up and sharing this post at...