Being a mommy means...
you will learn eye/hand signals that rival the military and that allow you to converse, silently, with your husband. Eye contact, head jerk towards the hallway, fingertip to the lips in that universal "don't make a sound" gesture totally tells my husband my plan to sneak away from the children and lock myself in the bathroom. and if I flash my cell phone at him he knows I am not sneaking away to answer nature's call.
you will make three variations of each meal, despite your pre-children mandate that you would never do this. grown up mommys cannot live by chicken nuggets and applesauce alone! if creating child friendly versions of the grown up meals we like means extra work for mommy, it is so worth it. besides, I have yet to find a wine that pairs nicely with chicken nuggets...
never leaving the house on time. at any given moment one of your little
someone is always hungry.
your view of "clean" changes. Pants that were thrown onto the bottom shelf of the changing table are certainly clean enough to wear again. Socks that were shoved into shoes and are the only pair you can find are clean enough. if the living room floor only has three matchbox cars, two stuffed animals, a handful of fruit gummies and one sippy cup half filled with pear juice you declare it clean enough.
your kitchen cabinets become storage for all those things you need to keep out of little sticky hands. Simply placing your cell phone and sharp scissors on the counter will not keep it away from tiny toddlers with super human strength who are capable of moving heavy kitchen chairs and hurling little bodies up onto counters.
you are never clean. at any given moment you have peanut butter, chocolate, glitter, snot, or something even worse somewhere on your clothes.
you eventually get to the point where you have changed so many poopy diapers that you begin to smell poop when there are no children around. this results in your looking like a maniac as you smell your fingers and try to finger out where the hell the smell is coming from.
you are never without children. even when they are not physically with you you are thinking about them.
you will never eat a snack or drink a drink you prepared for yourself again.
you can sense the fight brewing between your children in the living room and you choose to stay in the kitchen and turn up the radio.
you become a pro at "backwards math". if little johnny needs to be at school by 8:30 then we have to be in the car at 8:05 which means breakfast has to be done by 8:00 so we have to be dressed by 7:40 which means the kids need to be out of bed by 7:25 which means I need to be out of bed by 6:45 although if I don't wash my hair or put in my contacts I can sleep until 7:15. and you still wind up driving them to school in your pajamas.
every so often you realize, usually in the middle of the crowded grocery store, that you forgot to brush your teeth/put on deodorant/comb your hair.
you are simultaneously thrilled and terrified when your kids sleep past 7:30am.
you need at least a week's notice for any "spontaneous" outing with your spouse or friends in order to secure babysitting and prepare yourself for a night out. (i.e. shave your legs.)
you have driven, alone in the car, for at least 30 minutes before you realize your son's Laurie Berkner Band CD has been playing and you continue to sing along.
you are always at least a little tired. always.
you are amazed at what you can do with a bottle of white glue, yarn and one googly eye.
your lap is never empty.
you can read your kindle/phone/laptop screen through the fingerprints.
you know what love truly is.