You pretend to be worldly and discuss the news with your husband on date night and all you can come up with is “Hey, did you hear Brangelina is supporting Obama? I wonder if he will get elected?”
You go for a bra fitting and the German lady actually laughs at your tattered “good bra” and asks you how many years it’s been.
You give your husband a time out for being naughty.
You have given up trying to smell like a Victoria’s Secret model and your new goal is just not to smell like strained peas.
You don’t fantasize about your husband or the new “it” bag or even Johnny Depp….it’s really just about sleep now.
Your car smells like Cheetos and sweaty feet.
Wearing rubber gloves becomes second nature. Or worse yet, you have stopped wearing the gloves and clean the dead rabbits out of the window wells with your bare hands.
You haven’t spoken a full sentence in years, not that anyone would listen. It’s just the Marge Simpson groan.
Your blood pressure rises when your husband calls you on his lunch break and you are actually jealous. Eating and driving without someone kicking the back of your seat or threatening to vomit-he doesn’t know how good he has it!
Side note- we had a bee in the car during carpool this week. And my passive-agressive move to run all the gas out the car so I wouldn’t have to drive failed. My husband, ever the prince, noticed I was out of gas and filled the car up.
All the child discipline, time mangement and self-help books have been returned to the library and now you just ask “Are You Serious???” when your ten year old wipes her feet on you….again. That was us this week when my little princess asked for a smoothie and I didn’t make her a fresh one. Since she always ask for one a nano-second before the bus comes, I thought I would be smart and make some extras and freeze them. Turns out she doesn’t like pre-made any more than she likes left-overs. She was very lucky not to wear that smoothie to school:)
You, unfortunately, know exactly what time the port-o-potties are emptied at the neighborhood park and don’t even try to avoid it anymore.
The smell of chlorine sends you into a PTSD attack. Those wet pool towels multiply until you can’t breathe anymore.
The hamsters you agreed to buy for your oh-so-responsible-kid a month ago are now your responsibility. Because you don’t have enough animals to feed.
All the school clothes you scrimped and saved to buy are in a waded up heap in the trunk of your car or on the bathroom floor.
Sneaking out of Back-to-School before the third hour of power-point presentations and being guilted/bullied into signing up to be Room Mom. I swear, those PTO Moms carry switchblades and aren’t afraid to use them. And to my daughter- yes, I did go and read your note. You should really throw away those brown fuzzy grapes (I hope they were grapes) in your desk. I don’t think that would be a healthy snack. Maybe you are saving those for science.
You have a business call you absolutely have to make but can’t find the time in your schedule for the next eight years.
Your heart skips a beat when you hear your son call out “Hey Mom-Look at Me”. Instinctively you know you will be making a trip to the Emergency Room….again…
Sorry for the lack of posts. Jake has transitioned again to a big boy bed. My darling husband keeps putting the foot rest to the rocking chair back in the bedroom and Jake uses it to climb up and flip the lock on the outside of his bedroom door (yep-Mommy Dearest here-thankfully we use plastic hangers). According to the calendar it has really only been a few days since anyone has had any sleep around here but it feels like much, much longer. I have a credit card tucked in my pocket and swear I am going to make a run for it (to the nearest motel) the next chance I get. But, motherhood makes you a slower runner so I may only make it to the end of the drive-way and sleep in the gutter. Ahhhh-blissful sleep. If you can relate to any of this……DEMAND to be left alone for a half an hour!