Moms come in all shapes and sizes. this much is true.
But some things? Some things just don’t change. Circles under her eyes. The right amount of cynicism and buttery sweetness. The ability to simultaneously pay a bill over the phone, cook dinner, balance a baby on her hip and assemble a science project. We are all the same. Mostly.
This is especially true when you’re dealing with your average Basic Mom.
If you ever encounter a Basic Mom, you might want to make sure you have a few things on hand as backup should you ever have to engage in an actual conversation with one.
Speaking of which, Here are the ways that I’m a basic mom.
I used to wonder what all of the big stink about Target was. We all know that it’s not as cheap as Wal-Mart. Don’t give me that look, you know Wal-Mart is cheaper.
More expensive or not, it’s definitely way cleaner and better organized than pretty much all of the big box stores. Don’t even get me started on the fact that they have a Starbucks in each location. Wal-Mart *at best* has Subway.
But now, like my infant to the dog food in the dog dish, I am inescapably drawn to Target. Seriously, nothing sounds better when I’m up to my ears in children than getting in the car, driving to town and pushing a red cart aimlessly around a Target.
Who cares if I want to dec my infant out in the entire fall line of Circo children’s clothing?? So what if I want to stand in an aisle and contemplate the ways that baskets can make my life better?
Seriously, yes. I like to go and look at all of the things at Target. I will happily stand in the cosmetics aisle and not budge even an inch when the voice over the speaker says they are closing in 15 minutes. Pffft…I’ll worry about it in 13 minutes. For now? Cream to powder blush and charcoal clay masks, people. Sounds like a successful night on the town.
In the good old days, I would lug a camera around with me where ever we went. Even when I gave in and got one of those new fangled smart phones, I still carried my
droid camera with me. This was before I realized that the probability of my children cooperating for a posed photo was next to nil, so why am I knocking myself out (literally) trying to get a perfect picture??
I snapped 349.6 photos every time I left the house with my kiddos, then came home and waited six years for them to upload to my desktop only to find out that only a quarter of them were worth even looking at. Then I spent another 13 hours editing and uploading them to Facebook.
Then I started using my smart phone to upload my pictures to Facebook, no filters or editing involved. Then…well, THEN came Instagram.
The world changed. The angels sang. Moms everywhere rejoiced.
I’m not going to lie: my first photo EVER on Instagram was of a cereal bowl. Because I didn’t know how to work such a contraption. Now? I test every photo with all of the filters.
Crema. Valencia. Willow. Nashville. Because even your kitchen with 53 piles of dishes on the counter looks so much better in black and white.
Seriously, can my new job be to make up names for the filters on Instagram? Ruffles. Smorga. Fifi. Vulcan. Cher. Yes. Me. I want that job.
I love Pinterest. Whether it’s paint colors or planning for the vow renewal ceremony that is probably never going to happen unless we win seven million dollars from the lottery, or finding different ways to use Pillsbury cresent rolls. I’m down for whatever. Even though I’m only going to end up feeling worse about myself afterwards.
Am I even crafty? Nope, not even a little bit. I burn myself repeatedly while trying to curl my hair, do you really want me using a staple gun to create a DYI headboard??
Does my lack of craftiness stop me from pinning? No. Seriously, the most dreamy thing in the world sounds like sitting in a big comfy chair, with a hot cup of coffee and a iPad. Pinning away.
Speaking of which…
After one of my infrequent (cough) Starbucks runs the other day, I brought my hot PSL (you know what I mean) home to my husband. Only…my mind totally blanked. Was it a pumpkin pie latte, or a pumpkin spice latte?? Why couldn’t I remember?? I felt like I should be in mommy time out.
Anyway, my husband took the cup and said it didn’t matter. It’s early autumn and a girl was handing him a hot Starbucks drink that he believed to be affiliated with pumpkins. He knew it would be delicious.
And he was correct.
Yes, I needs the coffees. All of them. I have tried. I have tried to quit. I have tried hot tea. I have tried sticking my head in the oven. But I just can’t manage without my coffee. Even though my morning beverage cleans me out better than…anything.
In this phase of my life, I need it. Maybe when I don’t have children breathing morning breath on me and asking for cereal first thing I won’t need it.
But I do. So there.
Isn’t it obvious?
Part of why I live is to write to all of you and share the ups and downs and poop explosions of my day. Someone has to laugh at the calamity, right? I’m really trying to do the nation a public service. And I’m pretty sure I deserve all of the tax deductions because of it.
Moms and blogs go hand in hand because…how could they not? I know that people are very dismissive of moms who blog, but really? Parenting has got to be one experience that is constantly ripe with inspiration.
Living with people who think it’s okay to go outside in your underwear at 9 o’clock at night and to bring toads into the house and who smell like Johnson’s baby soap is a life that is worth writing about and a life worth reading about in my book.