You know you have become a mom when . . . .
- you see a booger up your child's nose, and don't think twice about picking it.
- your child sneezes and you use your hands . . . or shirt . . . or anything else you can easily grab to start wiping all the mucous away.
- you see schmutz on your child's face, and you automatically lick your finger to wipe it off (please note - I ALWAYS wash my hands in between wiping away the snot and licking my finger to wipe away the schmutz).
- you think it is acceptable to pick up your child to sniff his/her tush to determine if the diaper has poop in it.
- you can just pick up your child and know he/she needs a diaper change because of the increased weight.
- you feel the need to talk to your child about the stinkiness of the poop in his/her diaper . . . even though your child does not yet understand you.
- you don't really care whether you have recently showered . . . or put on makeup . . . or put on an outfit that isn't elastic and loose.
- you have to choose between showering and eating.
- you are proud of yourself for only accomplishing one thing all day.
- you spend most of your days discussing poop . . . and possibly breastfeeding, pumping, or bottles.
- you know exactly how many outfits your child has worn (and pooped through) in a given day.
- you rate your day based upon the number of poop explosions you have had to face.
- people ask how you are doing and you launch into a monologue about how your little one is growing/developing/sleeping/eating/pooping.
- you start to consider getting rid of furniture to make room for toys.
- you go to the store to pick up one toy . . . and spend an obscene amount of money and come home loaded with cool stuff (remind me to post a picture of my haul from today's shopping trip!)
- you spend 3 hours trying to go to the bathroom . . . or take your medicine. . . . or eat breakfast . . . and realize you still haven't succeeded.
- you get excited about a night of . . . . fun . . . with your husband, and can't believe the baby throws a wrench in your plans by waking up, screaming, and needing to come into bed with you.
- after feeding, you spend a lot of time coaxing your child into burping, and then cheer and say "good, boy" (or "good, girl") after the offensive sound has been successfully elicited.
- your child releases an impressive demonstration of flatulence, and you turn and say "feeling better, sweetie?"
