1. The amazing question answer-er. You have the unbelievable ability to answer 5,684 questions per day and that doesn’t even include the 8,352 follow up clarifying questions and the “but why, Mommy?” that comes after every single one. It is a scientific fact that this many questions would make anyone else’s head pop off. Case in point:
Princess Rapunzel: “What is this song called, Mommy?”
Me: “I’m not actually sure what this one is called. It’s a Christmas song.”
Princess Rapunzel: “But what’s it called? Just tell me. It will be easy.”
Me: “I know, Sweetie. I would tell you if I knew. It’s a Christmas song on the radio and I’m not sure what it’s called. It sounds like Amy Grant.”
Princess Rapunzel: “Rainy Camp? Why is Rainy Camp singing so sad?”
Me: “No, not Rainy Camp, Amy Grant. And she’s not sad, she’s happy. Everybody is happy at Christmas.”
Princess Rapunzel: “But it’s not Christmas. We didn’t get to go to Christmas (if you don’t understand that, read this). She is singing sad. Why is she so sad? Did she miss Christmas too? Just tell me. It will be easy, Mommy.”
Me: “We will get to go to Christmas, I promise. And I really don’t think she is sad. She’s just singing about Christmas. It’s a happy time! It’s everyone’s favorite!”
Princess Rapunzel: “Are you sure she is singing about Christmas? She said Cheezus. Why did she say Cheezus?”
2. Super sonic hearing. It all starts from the very moment that you first put that newborn baby down to sleep. You now have the uncanny ability to hear if that tiny little baby moves a tiny little finger. You will jolt out of a sound sleep if the baby even ever so slightly changes her breathing pattern, spring to her side and do the eye-level-mommy-crouch. You know the one; you crouch down so that your eyes are at the baby’s level and you can ensure that you are seeing that tiny rise and fall of the baby’s little body breathing. This will only become more acute as time goes on and you’ll soon be able to do things like distinguish which child coughed from down the hall and around the corner with the dishwasher on and the sink running. Interestingly enough, you will also be able to detect the distinct level of silence that can only mean one thing. Too much quiet means that something is most certainly going awry. Perhaps your $50 tub of facial moisturizer is being eaten or rubbed all over the cat, an entire box of cheerios may be seconds away from being dumped all over the floor, your walls might be getting covered in a lovely combination of crayon and your favorite eyeliner, or your cell phone is very carefully being placed inside your child’s dress-up purse that is then stuck inside their toy car which is then expertly parked behind a chair completely out of site.
3. You’ve redefined the idea of multitasking. Within one short hour of getting the kids to bed, you’ve managed to put away the bath toys, straighten up the living room, clean the kitchen, do two loads of laundry, cook tomorrow night’s dinner, prepare lunches for work the next day, all while catching up on your favorite Bravo housewives that you’re watching on your iPad, and finding out what all of your Facebook friends are declaring that they are thankful for that day.
4. Super human strength. Only a mom can get out the door in the morning carrying a toddler, an infant in their car seat, a purse, a pump, a lunch bag, a diaper bag and a bottle cooler. This is all done wearing heels and includes two sets of stairs. It should probably be considered an Olympic sport.
5. The sleepless wonder. You don’t need to sleep. Sleep is overrated. Before having kids, a night with only 4 or 5 hours of sleep would have ruined your whole week. Now all you need is a brief hour or three of shut-eye a night and you wake up refreshed and renewed! You barely ever mistakenly pour orange juice onto your cereal and haven’t yet fallen asleep on your commute. You should probably be sleeping right now, but instead you are up writing (or reading) this blog.
6. Last but not least, do I really even need to say it? I mean… you carried another human around inside of you for approximately nine months. A tiny human that dragged their sharp little elbows across the inside of your stomach, did tiny baby jigs directly on your bladder, caused you to gag or worse at the most random of smells, nauseated you, constipated you, cramped you, ached you, pained you and as if that wasn’t enough, you then had to get that baby out of you. It doesn’t matter how you got that baby out; whether she was pushed, pulled or surgically removed, you did that. You are amazing. You have superpowers. You are a mom.