And, They Laughed At Me

Last week when I got back to work after a weekend with The Niece, I was dragging ass. That kid wore me out. I described my weekend to co-workers and several of them laughed at me. Not with me, but at me. Hoohoo, you should try it with three kids, you should try it with five kids and as The Niece would say “blah, blah, blah.” Whatever.

This week I got to work after a weekend with The Niece and I was tired but not beat. And, no one laughed at me. I guess I have officially passed some sort of test. The test in my mind, at least, was when the following happened:

I was crouching on a concrete drain eating Lebanese food at the local Lebanese Food Festival (the drain was handy and there was no way I was hauling ass across the playground to find a table). The 30+ pound kid had suddenly turned into rubber and felt the need to lay across me because she was just exhausted and couldn’t hold her own head up. I handed her a cheese stick and tucked the plastic wrap in the Strawberry Shortcake back pack while I ate kibbeh. A breeze stirred and a napkin threatened to blow across the field. I caught it with my third hand and then looked over at the better-half and said “I think I’m getting the hang of this mom stuff.” And, then I rolled my eyes until I became dizzy.