Saturday, May 12, 2018

Because you are the mother, that's why

Hobo Mama wants you to know she's a professional blogger! Look at how professional she's being!

You're the one who knows the exact knee-bend bounce for soothing a crying baby.

You're the one who starts bouncing instinctively as soon as you hear a crying baby in earshot.

You've been taking prenatal horse pills for years, to be on the safe side.

You've been wearing nursing bras just as long.

You're the finder of lost shoes, lost toys, the jacket that never made its way into the closet, the remote in the couch cushions, the stuffie under the couch, the sippy cup under the sink.

You're the one who knows what condiments each kid likes with each food, and who gets them out without asking or being asked.

You could change a diaper with your eyes closed but know not to.

Your bag is heavy with supplies for other people.

Your pockets are lined with pinecones, leaves, feathers, dandelions, tiny rocks, and other treasures from your walks.

You know the knack for holding all the things and still keeping at least a pinky free to take a kid's hand.

You remember which of their pets haven't been fed or watered or walked or scooped, and you usually end up doing it yourself.

You know when it's time to start planning a birthday party or ordering a much-talked-about present.

You're the archive of all the funny ways they used to pronounce words.

You know their favorite books by heart and still read them dramatically each time.

You know the lyrics to children's songs better than they do.

You buy the fun Band-Aids.

You can speak knowledgeably about Pokemon or Paw Patrol or My Little Pony.

You know how to get the knots out of their hair, without making them cry.

You see when clothes are too small, too stained, or loved too much to give away.

You can do their homework for them but help them do it instead.

You remember their sunscreen and hats.

You play too much Go Fish and Candyland, but you're always ready for another round.

You collect trash in your hand, wipe faces with spit, and accept dirty tissues with aplomb.

You put more miles in than an Uber driver and get to take the carpool lane on every errand.

You're a pro at seatbelt buckling.

You turn off light switches.

You receive a lime-green-and-orange chunky bead necklace with enthusiasm and wear it even though it will never match your outfit.

Your body has marked and stretched and changed, and your kids can't get enough of hugging it.

You have their picture as your phone's wallpaper, and you get choked up when you look at it.

You're their safe place.

If one or more of these applies to you, you've more than earned your motherhood badge.

You've got this, mama. Happy Mother's Day.


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