The death stare, Mommy amnesia, immunity to cold porcelain shock

Sometimes, as the head bitch in charge, moms/wives may feel a little undervalued, overlooked or taken for granted. You shouldn't. I offer these thoughts as reminders as just how important you really are:

  • Forget about whether it should hang over the top or from the bottom. Without you, there wouldn't be any toilet paper on the holder. Actually, there might not be any at all. You're the one who remembers to buy more when the home's stash begins getting dangerously low. Yes, replacing the toilet paper stinks. What stinks even worse? To realize that no one got a new roll after using the last square.
  • Without you, there wouldn't be any magic. The kind of special magic that allows just a simple kiss to take away the pain of a skinned knee or cut finger. Or, as Little Me has pointed out, someone to use a special language (known as Shh...Shh...) at night to help little ones fall asleep quicker.
  • Without moms, lots of kids would be walking around with just one shoe on. Or, two that don't match.
  • Without moms, kids really would kill each other. They would. And then they'd play with their sibling's toys.
  • Without moms, dads wouldn't get to take nearly as many weekend naps. Or fishing trips. And, they'd smell a whole lot worse.
  • You know those super bugs and drug resistant bacteria? There would be a whole lot more of that if all of us moms weren't running around cleaning stuff all of the time.
  • Rules such as don't pick your nose wouldn't exist.
  • Without you, there would be a whole lot less art projects in elementary school.
  • Events like birthdays, anniversaries, etc. wouldn't be celebrated. No one would remember.
  • Without moms, teenage girls wouldn't have someone safe to unleash their angst on. Little boys wouldn't have a good measuring stick to hold their future wives up against.
  • Without mothers, the world would be under the rule of dust bunnies, ants and cockroaches.
  • The word "multitasking" would not exist.
And think of all of the unique abilities you now have after being a mother...
  • The ability to catch puke flying from a child's mouth quicker than a professional ball player. After all, you know if it lands on the floor, you'll be the one cleaning it up.
  • Immunity to cold porcelain shock in a dark bathroom. You know, the ability to sit on a toilet in the middle of the night for an urgent tinkle and, yep, your bottom hits cold porcelain. More points if you manage to keep your butt from falling backward into the water at the same time.
  • You now have four eyes. Two in the front. Two in the back. And, rumor is that the two in the back can see more than the two in the front.
  • Psychic ability. Your children really believe that you know exactly what they're doing even if you're nowhere close. You don't even have to be in the same state. As Little You warned Little Me one time: "Momma always knows. I don't know how but she does." Also, the ability to foresee sickness coming before it even arrives. One look in your kid's eyes and you know that in the next 24 hours, there's going to be some serious misery around your house -- your misery and the kid's.
  • Fantastic driving ability. You men better not laugh. You stay up for three days straight and try to drive in Atlanta traffic. It is a talent. I'll tell you that right now. One time, after 3 days of no sleep, I emerged from getting my eyebrows waxed to discover that I had managed to park sideways in a parking space. Now that is talent. Enviable talent.
  • Incredible patience. What else can explain the ability to explain for the 300th time that just because your little boy likes the design on the back of his shirt better than the one on the front, that it just isn't acceptable to wear it backward. Why? "Because I said so."
  • Chameleon temper. The unique ability to be perfectly amiable and peaceful one moment and ferocious and deadly the next if someone messes with one of your babies.
  • Mommy amnesia. The ability to conveniently forget that things you forbid your child to do are the same things you did at their age. You didn't die. You didn't get maimed. You turned out okay. But, of course, that was you and this is them so the answer is no. Why? "Because I said so."
  • The death stare. The look that says "if you do that one more time your butt is mine. All mine. Twice."
  • A better sense of humor. Seriously, if you don't laugh, what in the world are you going to do? Sometimes that's all you can do. Just laugh.
  • New nutrition rules. You now have the perfect excuse to eat ice cream anytime you want and to chomp on a chicken nugget. And, fries? Well, they're good for breakfast, lunch or dinner. 
  • Improved range of hearing. The unique ability to tune out loud toys, horrendous music and cartoons. The equally evolved ability to wake in the middle of the night from the faintest of tiny footsteps or to pick out your own child's cry of "Momma" on a crowded playground. Also, the ability to hear your child cuss from a mile away.
  • Smellitude. The ability to smell, from a distance, what someone did in their pants that they weren't supposed to. Or, that someone didn't use the toilet paper you took so much time to put on the holder just an hour ago. For the fourth time this week.
  • The ability to communicate with just tonal range and inflection. Your child's name can now mean at least 30 different things just based on enunciation, volume and pitch.
  • You always have something to wear: your Supermom Cape. Which is perfect since it covers up the Mommy rump as well.
All of this is not to say that there aren't days that I don't wish I could shove those little jokers back in. It surprises me that I can now say that life was easier when they were tucked safely inside. While they both tried to make me puke my liver out of my nose my entire pregnancy, that was a whole lot better than my heart being in my throat half the time. But, all in all, I'd have to say that life is better with them. It's definitely much more entertaining.

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  1. Thanks. I am one of those dad-moms. I refer to myself as a mutha.

  2. Great stuff. You capture it so well. You have a point about the Mom language being tonal, like Mandarin, with the tone establishing the entire meaning.
    Thanks for brightening my day!