I spin around to see who might have seen that token of toddler calming gold drop on the bacteria infested grocery store floor. The lady on aisle five probably wouldn’t judge…those bags under her eyes tell me she’s got at least two kids-probably at school…lucky. Security cameras… can’t see them.
I give the pacifier a good polish on the ole two day worn shirt (I didn’t see any adults yesterday so that day didn’t count) and shove it back where it belongs. The screams stop.
I’ve got seventeen minutes before poop, lack of nap, or refusal to buy the $12 spongebob head juice results in epic tantrums from either of my two kids (bless the third for her school age). If you are shaking your head, you should probably go jump in your fry-less car and drive to the nearest non-drive-thru Starbucks because things are about to get real…
“We’ve got this,” it’s a phrase thrown around the military spousal community like a bad case of croup. What exactly do we have? I’ll tell you. We’ve got a tool box of empty threats, a million tricks to getting at least five more minutes of sleep, and a conscience that can justify just about anything for being “good for the immune system.” Buckle everyone’s seat belts (I won’t tell if you switched the car seat to forward facing before the brat turned two) these are our mom confessions:
