How you know

Last weekend I determined a way to realize if you have a blogging addiction. We had been out late, not getting home until nearly 12:30, and by the time we got the sitter home, the house shut down, the kids all checked on and all that other end of the night stuff, it was 1:15 am. Thus I was a tad bit surprised to find my most wonderful dear sweet husband wandering into the office to check.......his blog. I'm going to chalk it up to his 31 posts in 31 days thing and say that I'm sure he could stop blogging (or blog stalking) at any time. Really. If he wanted to. ;) (love you babe!!)

Then over the past couple of days I've come upon a few other "how you know" moments.

How you know you're a mom: You decide to get up early to work out. The kids foil you by getting up early on a weekday. You try anyway. A 42min cardio workout, coupled with a 10 min ab routine take you 2hrs and 13minutes to complete. This is because interspersed in those 52min of exercise you poured 4 bowls of cereal, changed two diapers, showered two boys, tied a pair of shoes, curled hair, sent two kids off to school, nursed a baby and answered the phone twice. Yet you persist. Even if after all of this you still weigh more than you did yesterday. Whatever.

How you know your kids have a sixth sense: They resist getting out of bed on a weekday that involves school. No matter how early they went to bed the night before. Mom must go to get them out of bed more than once, pleading with them to get up so that we don't have to rush to get them to school on time. Yet on a Saturday or Sunday, when mom and dad don't have to be up and somewhere first thing in the morning, or a weekday with no school, they are up at the crack of dawn. Or before dawn now that the sunrise is later. This also is the case on a weekday when you decide to work out. See above.

How you know you like chocolate too much: You sneak it in when you can, but in effort to not weigh more tomorrow, you make sure you get it in healthy doses, like via a protein shake and such. When you do splurge, you try to sneak it in in small increments here and there. Unfortunately this results in finding out-after you finish nursing the baby-that you have dropped something chocolate on her, it landed on her hand which she then rubbed her face with, leaving a trail of melted chocolate across her cheek, eyebrows, nose and eyelids. Oh, and part of her ear. Not to mention it melted under her little fingers into the crevices where her fingers meet her palm and into her fingernails. Wow. Who knew one stray chocolate chip could do so much damage? (I swear I had Aaron take a picture of the sleepy grin on her face as she was covered in chocolate, but I can't find it on either camera!) At least it came out of both her shirt and mine.

How you know it's not your first or only child: When it's "Red Day" at Kindergarten and your child gets up in the morning and puts this on:
and you don't argue. Hey, he's wearing red. Who cares if it's two different shades of red.
Also when it if your Kindergartener's turn for "snack day", and you send in a box of generic Vanilla Wafers. Even though there are some people who on their "snack day" take in little airplanes with the bodies made of little tubes of mini M&Ms, wings of laffy taffy, etc,etc. You get the picture. heehee....you can tell when it's a first or only child in Kindergarten! lol Bless those cute little moms....

How you know you have a wonderful husband: When he comes home each day he tells you how wonderful and beautiful you are, even with no makeup, spit up stains on your shirt, snot wiped down your jeans, and the infamous mommy ponytail (or bun) going on. Then he asks what he can do to help with dinner, and gladly relieves you of whichever child is currently clinging to your leg to give you a blessed 3 1/2 minutes completely alone to go to the bathroom. Even if you don't really have to go and just go in there to experience the sensation of walking in alone, locking the door, and not having someone either sticking fingers under the door, trying to jimmy open the lock, or banging on the door saying in their most polite little soft and gentle voice: "MOMMMMY!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE????? COME OUT!!" Hubby gets bonus points when he realizes without being prompted that you've managed to get into a jeans a size smaller without popping seams, zippers, or buttons, or holding your breath.

How you know you love your kids: Even though it is hours past your bedtime, you go down to check on them just one last time, and instead of being irritated, you laugh that two bedrooms still have lights on (though children have thankfully fallen asleep), more than one child fell asleep with a book on their lap, one child is trying to sleep on three stacked pillows with "necessities" stacked in between pillows (a pair of slippers, plastic tools, weapons, stuffed dogs, etc), you turn down obnoxious "children's" cds so that they don't wake you (again) in the middle of the night, or keep you from falling asleep after getting up with the baby at 2am, then admire all those sweet sleeping faces and remember what a blessing they are. Even if they make it so that your house never is clean, your laundry never is done, there are always dishes in the sink, you rarely have a free minute and you (almost never) go to the bathroom uninterrupted and haven't for the past 10yrs. And then your arms feel empty as you climb into bed because the baby (bless her!!!) has finally started sleeping in stretches just a little bit longer.