I Am That Mother

I am that mother whose toddler stands up in the grocery cart. Give me all the evil glares you want--and then why don’t YOU try keeping her strapped in. Yes, I KNOW she can climb from the seat into the cart by herself. Believe it or not, I AM WATCHING HER.

I am that mother who, when her preschooler with the ear infection bursts into tears in the hair care aisle, gives in and lets her have the hairbands AND the barrettes AND the obnoxiously tiny, chokeworthy butterfly hair clips.

I am that mother whose snot-dripping toddler, shrieking with glee, redistributes the bottom two rows of cold and flu aids while the aforementioned ear infection sufferer screams that she will NOT share the headbands with her younger sister, NO!

And I am that mother whose prescription is rushed by the pharmacist so that she will get the hell out of there before her kids destroy the store.

Yep, that’s me. Happy RSV* season, everyone!


*RSV = Respiratory Syncytial Virus, the cold of choice of my children. It and its look-alike landed the Wee One in the hospital not once, but twice, last winter. The fact that she reacts so strongly to it (virtually everyone gets it, but not everyone's lungs crackle and pop like breakfast cereal when they have it) means she'll probably have asthma when she's older. Yeeha!