the things we do

You know, I was never *really* sure if I would actually, literally, stop what I was doing instantaneously – INSTANTANEOUSLY – if Kellan needed me.

Then, one day not so long ago, I left Kellan on the floor in the family room to go to the bathroom. All of a sudden, I hear a strange sound and then…silence…and then….the panic cry.

You moms know the panic cry.

I ran out of the bathroom before A: I was finished and B: my pants were on.

He was fine, by the way, as were my pants and legs, after a thorough washing.

Also? Tim has witnessed me throw food – haphazardly…no, maniacally -that I was juuust about to eat because, mid-bite, an emergency started unfolding with Kellan (are you choking????) and my hand automatically let go of the fork/spoon/food.

Where did it land?

I have no idea but I’m positive I saw the pea come out of Kellan’s mouth.

Then, the other day I was literally on my hands and knees in the grocery store to dig out the last box of his favorite crackers, probably mooning everyone within sight.

You must understand.


Apparently, I’m not below getting down and reaching into the depths of the shelf for the last box of crackers.

I see why, now, kids think their moms are embarrassing. Look at me, running out of the bathroom sans pants, jumping up and throwing food everywhere whilst contorting myself into yogic positions to barely reach your most favorite crackers in the very, very, very back of the bottom shelf.

(Dear Grocery Store: Your shelves are entirely too deep. My arms are abnormally long and *I* could barely grab those crackers. Imagine if I was of average height?)

Newsflash: We’re doing all these crazy things for you, kid. I’m honestly not a fan of peeing on my own leg, either.


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