your bookshelf looks like this |
your kid sneezes, and your instinct is to give him your sleeve rather than a tissue
you happily eat the leftovers off your child's plate, and call it lunch
you want to throw your child across the room one minute, and hold him close the next
you walk down the diaper aisle at the supermarket just to smell that "baby" smell (or maybe that's just me?)
you find it difficult to part with certain articles of clothing despite the holes that have gathered from 4 boy-wears
you call the dog the child's name, and you call the child the dog's name
you can count the sleepless nights-in years
there are always snacks in your handbag
your handbag looks more like carry on luggage
you leave the house with some ufo (unidentified food object) on your shirt-and you go with it
you have a first aid kit in your car
youbite nibble your child because he is so yummy, and you want to eat him alive because you are so enraged
you
no matter where you are, you mentally map out the quickest route to the e.r. (maybe that's just me?)
when cereal is served as dinner, no one makes a fuss the crowd goes wild
you can't wait for the kid to go to bed, but once he's tucked in you miss him
your jewelry box looks like this |
you spend hours
yours truly,
girl friday xo
p.s. and if you aren't a mother, you really should try it out. you just might like it.
p.s. and if you aren't a mother, you really should try it out. you just might like it.
No comments:
Post a Comment