A list like this is one that I feel like you can update every several years. Perhaps even every few months. It changes all of the time.
You know you’re a parent when…
You have had this conversation:
Repeat 32 billion times a day x the next 18 years.
There are broken off bits of pretzel in your makeup bag, hot wheels in your purse and food in your hair. And if you checked, you’d probably find that you’re sitting on something that you shouldn’t be.
A trip to the grocery store used to last you through the entire week. Now, about three days out, there are moths in your cubbard and tumbleweeds blowing through your refrigerator. How can sixteen gallons of milk and five loaves of bread go that fast? You already know the answer.
Bedtime becomes like managing negotiations in a hostage crisis instead of the calm, soothing process it used to be. Yes, for eight hours of sleep, you will negotiate with terrorists.
You need to visit a chiropractor or a masseuse because you’re jacked up from sleeping one too many nights with a small child in your bed. How does the thirty pound person end up with 87% of the bed?
You read posts on people’s Facebook or Twitter about how tired or stressed they are and simultaneously groan, laugh and cry. There there, sweet mother.
Practically nothing grosses you out anymore. You’ve just about seen it all and had just about all of it on you at some point.
You have stopped the car on the side of the road to let your child look at a dead possum in the middle of the street.
You have answered a million questions about said possum, even well after you have gotten home.
Every time you pass that same spot in the road where the dead possum was you are asked more questions about the dead possum.
You are asked 23 times where you are going whenever you get in the car. Even though you already told them.
If you deviate from your usual route because of traffic or anything other reason, your children have 99 questions about why you’re doing what you’re doing.
Your children, who were originally excited at the thought of a trip to Target, have now changed their minds and want to go somewhere else.
Now they’re mad that you won’t take them to Chick Fil-A instead.
You have been fetched in the middle of the night to check your child’s room for woodpeckers because they are convinced that they hear them in the attic.
Your monster checking abilities are always questioned, and even after you have checked all over the entire room to make sure it’s safe from woodpeckers, your child probably want daddy to also come and check.
You have had this conversation:
“When will sister’s wee-wee grow in?”
Some people get a few drinks in them and talk about the embarrassing things that they have done. You get a few in you and you bring out the birthing horror story from hell, because 17 hours of labor, thank you very much.
You could fall asleep if you sat or laid still for more than 6 minutes.
You have experienced this scenario: you have been unsuccessful in getting your children’s attention. So, you turn on the computer/pick up your smart phone/sit down with a cup of coffee. Suddenly, you are descended upon by small people who want you to play Candy Land.
The bottom three feet of your wall are covered in hand and finger prints….even tongue prints. Because DON’T ASK.
Sleeping in is sleeping until 8 a.m.
You know every type of dinosaur, every Transformer’s name, the theme song to every cartoon and the name of every My Little Pony.
You have espoused the wonders of children’s cartoons to people who aren’t even parents. “Let me tell you about why Little Einsteins is so amazing…”
You’re incredibly thankful that your friends who don’t have children still tolerate your stories of breastfeeding and childbirth. Because you’re just thankful to be out of the house.
If it becomes like Mission Impossible to make a phone call.
If you find yourself still watching children’s shows even after the kids have left the room. Even worse, you really do want to know what happens at the end of this episode of Octonauts.
Even if daddy is standing right there (and completely willing to help, no less) you’re still the one they ask for another cup of milk, where Blue Bear is, if you can get them some string cheese, if you will rock them to sleep, etc…
Daddy has gotten up to go and check and see what’s wrong only to be sent back a few minutes later: “They want mommy.”
Time out to yourself is either driving up the street to the post office, a grocery store trip BY YOURSELF, or sitting in a parking lot while eating a donut and listening to Katy Perry. The bar has officially been lowered. Take what you can get.
You relish 16 minutes of silence. Though, you’re always a wee bit nervous about that 16 minutes of silence.
Getting the kids out of the house is usually an ordeal. Finding shoes, brushing hair and teeth, finding matching socks. But if someone were to call you up and tell you that they’ll take the kids for the afternoon, you can get those kids in the car before they realize that they’re being put in the car. Because mad skills. Because priorities.
Sleep > just about anything. Seriously.
Laying at home, in sweat pants, on your own sofa while farting and eating chips on Friday night sounds like a perfectly perfect evening to you.
Start a movie past 9 p.m.? Are you kidding me??
It doesn’t phase you when there are three extra people, and maybe even a few pets, in the bathroom with you.
If these words have left your mouth:
“I just need some space.”
“Mommy just needs sleep…”
“Stop scratching your bare bottom on the bathroom door.”
“Please don’t put your finger in your sister’s nose.”
“But you just ate….”
“Don’t you want to take a nap??”
“No, mommy has to go inside to use the potty. She cannot pee-pee on a leaf.”
“Ask your father.”