I think I sometimes live an episode or two of Hoarders every time I ask my kids to clean their rooms or pick up toys. At some point in the future, I may be the subject of an Intervention due to my caffeine addiction thanks to almost six years of sleep deprivation.
I want to see Mike Rowe do my job… Diapers, snot, mealtime cleanup, finger painting, moon dough, potty accidents, cereal box contents on the floor, crushed goldfish, vomit, the interior of the minivan, random messes: all Dirty Jobs.
Toddlers and tiaras? Yes, we play princess a lot. Tattoo artist? You bet! My kids ink themselves all the time. Those temporary tattoos? I can apply them in my sleep. Bounty Hunters? Yes, I round up suspects of various infractions all the time. Oh, and Cops? My kids never let me forget that one speeding ticket I got on the way to drop off my oldest at preschool.
After three kids, I think a month at the Biggest Loser bootcamp would be a vacation. Survivor? I’m a mom. I’m in constant survival mode. And even though I look constantly at my calendar of Kids Nights at local restaurants, I am the Top Chef in my house.
I love the reality of my life. It is hard at times, no lie. You couldn’t pay me enough to ever be a Bachlorette ever again. See, I love running an Amazing Race with my kids through the living room area. So I Think I Can Dance? Not really, but my kids don’t care. We laugh and dance anyway. I love the sound of their Voice calling to me, their American Idol. That adoration won’t last much longer as they get older, so I savor it now.
There is no Apprenticeship to motherhood. You just live it, learning and growing together.
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