Way # 95

Yesterday, I found another blog, called The Art of Making a Baby and Other War Stories. This woman is so fun to read about. The stories of her TTC time, pregnancy and the birth of her little girl are a terrible thing for someone getting baby fever only 5 months postpartum to read. I teared up reading her birth story and seeing the pictures of her and her little family. This is easy, Way #95 is simply this: You know you're a mom when you see, or read, something about a new baby and you automatically go back to the first time you held your own little one. The first time you say the two lines, or got the call that a baby was waiting for their mommy and daddy to adopt them; the first sounds of a heartbeat; the first time you held a crying, cold, bundled baby. The moment you realized "Oh, crap. This is MINE. I don't get a manual, I don't get anything but this insane amount of love and the desire to do right by him/her. In that moment, your world changes. It changed when you realized you were going to be a parent, and again at the milestones, but it wasn't horribly drastic. Actually holding that child is when it hits you. I loved the panicked, anxious, nervous, ridiculously giddy feeling when my baby girls looked into my eyes. Nothing can change that, and not being able to describe it, not being able to tell anyone what it feels like, THAT is how you know you're a mom :)

Way # 6

I am visiting family in Pa and Ohio. It's a 2-2 1/2 hour drive from Pa to family in Ohio. The other night, my teeny tiny was screaming her head off because she was hungry. I pull over to try to feed her. As I'm trying to get her to drink a bottle, a man pulls up in a State Farm roadside assistance truck and asks if everything is okay. I answered with a simple "Yep, hungry baby." To me, as a mother, I think that is an appropriate answer.
So, way to tell you're a mom number 6 is that you answer questions to strangers with a sentence that any mother would understand. People without kids, however, or, rather, people that haven't spent a lot of time around them, don't quite get it. Okay, you have a hungry baby, why are you parked on the side of the road? :)

Way #5

There is no story here, just a largely known tidbit: You know you're a mother when you realize that you pick a small nose without ever thinking about it.

#1 - Am I the Only One?

Today, I am cleaning with my earbuds in, music cranked. First of all, John is home, so my girls are not being ignored. I need a break sometimes. This is mine. I don't have to leave the house, or get away from my little boogers. I know that all moms need some alone time, but it doesn't make it any easier to admit. I feel guilty.
This is the epitome of being a mother. Regardless of what YOU need or want, the everyday needs of your children will always come first. The idea that you CAN take a break from being surrounded by dirty diapers is a foreign one. You can do it, yes, but how often do you question it? How often does your mind go back to the children you'd do anything for? How often do you think you're selfish for wanting soemething of your own? For me, it happens a lot. I love my girls, and if I didn't, taking a few minutes to myself wouldn't be so hard.

Way #87

I watch American Idol. Most weeks, I don't watch it the night of, the day after or even two days after it airs. Not to mention, I watch it with a 2 month old and an almost 2 year old. Neither of which understand musical talent, nor do they care. Yet, I find myself telling them, "Mommy doesn't like that girl's voice" or, "Seriously? The people in America must be tone deaf!" Usually, Charley is too busy dancing to the music to notice, and if she does, she looks at me like I'm an idiot. No, Charley, honey, Mommy's just lacking in ADULTS to talk to. So Mommy tells you things that you don't understand and in no way relate to Elmo.
So, obviously, you know you're a mother when your conversations consist almost entirely of you talking to a child about stuff that they won't care about until they can actually understand WHY thousands of people sing in front of three celebrities for a chance to get rich and famous. In many cases, like mine, they will never understand that, because singing is fun, but I don't see the point in doing it on television.

Way#17

Charley likes Curious George. Ok, maybe 'likes' is too tame a word. She's obsessed. She calls all monkeys 'Juju', because George is just too much, I guess. We recently watched a 'Juju' in which he and Allie, his neighbor 'in the country', make themselves an automatic car wash for toy cars. They have a sound for each phase, like 'splish, splish, splish' for the rinsing. They use 'blub, blub, blub' for the soap suds. My husband, as I was closing the dishwasher to sweep the floor, he says "Wait! We need the blub blub blub!"
You know you're a mother when you or your significant other repeatedly, and seriously uses words or phrases that you've heard one too many times from your child or their favorite character. We do, honestly, call all monkeys George, or Juju. If it helps her recognize a monkey, then so be it. We also say the generic things: I have to go potty, I need a drinky, whatever. I find it a bit sad that we make ourselves sound so, well, dumb, when our children are smarter than that. Sometimes I think Charley does these things just to see how pathetic mommy really is. Thank goodness I love being a child-speaking mama!

Way #45

This morning, I gave Charley some pancakes for breakfast. With syrup. When she was done, John and I had to practically peel her chin from her chest.
You know you're a mother when you have to spend 20 minutes with a warm, wet washcloth scrubbing sticky syrup off a toddler. When you've soaked her down with soapy water, wet her hair, and think you're done. Then notice, an hour later, that she is STILL sticky. Thank goodness she got a bath yesterday, huh?