You Know You're A Mother When...

Mamakat's Prompt: You know you're a mother when...


You go days without ever speaking a complete sentence.

Your wardrobe consists of items of clothing that can survive spills, spit, and other spewage.

Your makeup regime takes less than a minute, and may or may not be limited to one eye.

If you call yourself "Mommy" in conversation because you can't remember your first name.

You can identify the different cries your child makes and know when they are just "foolin'".

Constant interruptions have caused such massive derailment of your trains of thought that you worry that you might have dementia.

No one can talk to you without enduring your random, right-in-the-middle-of-sentences, comments to your child. Even when your child is not there.

The three-second-rule becomes the five-second-rule if you're all out of whatever just fell on the floor.

You get used to peeing with the bathroom door open. (Kids are like cats. The second they notice a closed door, they want to be on the other side of it.)

It's ten o'clock on a Saturday night, and you're already asleep.

You don't even care if there is no tissue to wipe a runny nose--you just use your hand.

When you wait for over an hour in a line at the mall for this priceless photo, and your husband gives you grief because it cracks you up every time you look at it: