- The nurse hands you a baby and says with a sneer, “Good luck, suckers!”
- You get home with baby and after a few days realize–the baby isn’t going anywhere.
Probably for the next 30 years.
If you’re lucky.
- You never go by your own first name anymore.
“Hi! I’m Christian’s Mom!” or “Hello! I’m Julia’s full-time domestic slave who lost her name along with her identity about 10 years ago, nice to meet you! Please, help me remember who the hell I am! For the love of God, please!”
- You openly discuss puke stories over lunch with friends.
“Hey….by the way, have you ever seen puke drop from three feet high before? No? well, let me tell you it was epic. I had to hold the bucket up over my head like I was offering up a sacrifice at the fiery altar of vomit volcano hell. I didn’t even flinch. I just turned my head to the side, squeezed my eyes shut to block the spray, and he kept hurling over the side of the top bunk like nobody’s business.
Now please pass me the guacamole.”
- You alternate between serene calmness and explosive fire-breathing rage with ease.
“Please, you guys really need to start calming down now, okay? Huh? Please?
I SAID CALM DOWN! RIGHT NOW! OR I WILL DRIVE THIS CAR INTO A TREE SO HELP ME GOD!
- You get so beaten down by the constant barrage of questions, “Mom, can I have a cookie? Mom, can I have a piece of candy? Mom, can I have some chocolate milk?” that you finally snap and start screaming, “YES! YES!! FINE! GO AHEAD! YOU CAN HAVE EVERYTHING! ALL OF IT! I DON’T CARE ANYMORE! HAVE AT IT!” only to realize you’ve agreed to letting them drink beer and take the car out for a spin.
- You start to schedule meetings with your husband to discuss when to schedule in sex.
- This year’s vacation hot-spot?
Any place you and your spouse don’t have the kids for a few minutes so you can get a tiny shred of sanity back.
Maybe eat an entire meal uninterrupted for once.
Listen to your own inner thoughts for a change.
Could be simply going out for the early-bird special at the local Cracker Barrel, it’s all good.
- Your go-to emotion is feigned apathy.
Whenever you have childless friends over for dinner, they’ll have this look of terror on their faces as your kids run around screaming and throwing things like monkeys fresh from a coke binge. And the whole time you’ll just sit on the couch with a shell-shocked blank look on your face, completely oblivious to the chaos–their loud antics only barely registering as a distant low-buzzing hum. This is a coping mechanism that only comes from years of practice.
- You’ve learned society’s acceptable term for your constantly hyped-up, out-of-control kid is ‘spirited’.
So you use it all the time now as an excuse.
“Oh, so he dumped an entire bottle of chocolate syrup in your toilet? He’s spirited!”
“So you’re telling me he head-butted the gym teacher because he felt like it? Well, now! He sure is spirited!”
- You often interrupt important phone calls to yell:
“Hey! You wipe your OWN butt!”
- On any given day you find yourself quoting the best quote ever uttered by a parent:
“I brought you into this world, I can take you out.” —Bill Cosby
***If any of you weary and worn-down parents out there have any other insights as to when you know you’re a parent, feel free to write them in the comments below so I can laugh at you while offering up my deepest sincerest pity as only a seasoned mom can do.***