To Feel Like a Real Mom

It's funny how pushing out a baby, and handling three children all day every day, and knowing in the ins and outs of car seats and diapers and the odd truth of how your kid throwing up or pooping on you somehow isn't as gross as anyone else's vom or poop -- none of those make me feel quite as much like a Real Mom as homemade jewelry that looks super homemade yet I actually don't mind wearing in public.

Or being subjected to the public reading of a survey of your kid's impressions of you.

Or a coffee date with a sweet boy who produces a card with a poem inside, and it's actually the best poem ever written, which is just a pure objective fact.

Or a fancy* mother's day tea party brunch while sitting in a chair approximately an eighth the size of mah ass.

*very loose definition

I roll my eyes at it all, but somehow it does make me feel like a Real Mom.

Also here is a picture with Charlotte because my lands, I'm not That Mom who would leave one kid out. Simmer down with the pearl clutching.

Happy Mother's Day!