A few weeks ago I wrote about all the ridiculous things I have to say now that I hang out with small humans all day. I realize that I left out the rest of my body, which also gets roped into doing absurd things in order to survive. If only my 21-year-old self could see me now! (She would sob quietly into her pillow all day because she would be too depressed to get out of bed.)

  • I eat snacks I don't want to share at the top of our basement steps so my toddler doesn't hear the crinkling wrappers of my candy/chips/cookies (it does not work but I keep trying).
  • I feed my toddler bites of his breakfast as he sits on the toilet (I hear multitasking is a crucial skill for kindergarten readiness).
  • For my own breakfast, I sometimes eat stale snacks I find in the car while gulping down diet soda (pro tip: Doc Popcorn is pretty good even after a few days). 
  • I listen to Daniel Tiger songs on Spotify (and I don't actually mind it).
  • I order my toddler Starbucks so often he has made up a catchy song entitled "I Love Starbucks" (I mean don't we all?).
  • I eat the majority of my meals at a tiny Kidkraft table (the chairs may or may not collapse under my post-pregnancy ass at any moment which adds some excitement to my life). 
  • Why do so many of the things I do involve eating? Whatever, now I'm hungry. 
  • My media consumption is limited to Daniel Tiger episodes (I've seen them all, spoiler alert everyone is a good neighbor and no one bites their mom on the inner thigh) and recently Paw Patrol (I welcome the variety). 
  • The litmus test for dirty clothes is whether or not they smell STRONGLY of baby barf (faint barf smell still counts as clean). 
  • I refuse to clean up anything that falls on the floor if it is within three days of a visit from our cleaning woman (her name is JoAnn and my toddler is in love with her and invites her to go to Mall of America with him). 
  • I throw away blow-out onsies rather than soak and wash them (some things aren't worth it and kill your soul). 
  • I use the promise of nail polish as a bribe so my toddler will agree to let me clip his toenails (he usually picks gunmetal silver, which makes his feet look like they were in some sort of terrible accident). 
  • I make up rap songs when my toddler won't stop asking me the same question over and over again just to annoy him (he hates is sooooooooo much). 

I'm sure all mothers find themselves doing things they never, ever, EVER thought they would do after they have children. I'm hoping that the memories of these moments will slowly fade with time like the sweet hormone fog that envelopes my recollection of labor and delivery. My only request is that I don't forget all the rap songs I've come up with because those might come in handy again during the teenage years.