Yeah, I did it.I went there and proclaimed our own awesomeness. Uh huh. I think moms have the best and hardest and least respected and most worthy job in the world. Regardless of whether or not we are appreciated the way we deserve does not change the fact that, yes, we totally rock. Let me give you a few reasons why.
1. In the same sentence I can chastise, motivate, and encourage all at once. “Now, Hadley, you know that you should not have pushed your brother like that but I understand how being so much bigger can be frustrating but this is why I know next time you will set a great example for Kincaid on how to be a great big brother!!”
2. I can count to 3 and earn immediate obedience, respect, and awe from anyone within listening range. This was accurately portrayed by Tina Fey in “Date Night.” And yes, it works on adults, too.
3. Only an experienced mom can pull down a vile, poop filled diaper, and get it all cleaned up with 1, yes, ONE wipe. I swear, I feel like a secret ninja like, “swoosh swoosh wipe…YEAH BEYOTCH!! Take that!!” I mean, not that I call my baby a beyo…you get the point.
4. I can have a child with a broken/injured/hurt/booboo riddled finger in hysterical laughter in under 35 seconds. Yes, I am that good.
5. To be honest, I still see my friend Theresa as the queen of this. Only a mom, not a culinary chef, but a mom, can make a tasty meal out of kidney beans, tater tots, one mango, and a can of tuna fish on the last day of a 5 week month when the grocery budget ended a week ago.
6. Business crusaders? Heads of state? World leaders? None of them could ride in a car with 4 toddlers and be able to carry on a coherent conversation on the phone. A mom doing carpool? I can hear perfectly well over the laughter, screaming, crying, and fighting in the backseats. I don’t even hear it and can talk around it, as can the other mom on her end of the line.
7. We are true baby whipserers, but this continues up until, well, I am guessing until whatever age til puberty hits when everything becomes a secret. Kids cry. There are like, 48 reasons. And honestly, to the untrained ear, the cries all sound the same. And yet hand me a baby and when it cries, a true mom will say, “Oh, little Reggie needs to poop” or “Oh, baby Franklin needs a pacifier” or “Oh sweet little Georgia, your knee is just fine. Run along and play now!” or “Uh oh. That cry is actual, honest to goodness pain.” We know the difference in the first 1-2 seconds of sound.
How we do these things? I don’t know. I do know, however, we are all over qualified for any position in the world. Running the country from the White House? Please. I am overqualified. It would be boring compared to what I do every day. Disarming the newest wacko dictator from his newly contrived nuclear arsenal? Cake. Disarming the 3 year old holding your iPhone 4s as she holds it over an open potty?? Yeah, give me North Korea or Iran (or the new bad guy and country of the day is) any day baby.