I don’t know when Sam went from calling me “Mom” to “Mooothher” complete with the eye roll. Find myself often saying these days….”Your face is going to freeze that way…”
Real Mothers don’t eat Quiche; they don’t have time to make it.
Real Mothers really do have eyes in the back of their heads.
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox, the front yard, the back yard or the pool.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors, dented pots and pans (from drumming) filthy ovens and happy kids.
Dirty ovens make the best chocolate chip cookies.
Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn’t come out of carpets.
(Really, it doesn’t.)
Real Mothers don’t want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
(That’s why vacuum manufacturers designed the crevice tool.)
Real Mothers sometimes ask ‘Why me?’ and get their answer when a little voice says, “Because I love you.”
Real Mothers know that a child’s growth is not measured
by height, years, mustache or grade level…
It is marked by the progression from Mama to Mommy to Mom to Mother…