How to Spot a Preggo

I can always tell which of my friends or acquaintances are pregnant and it’s never because they have suddenly stopped drinking or are constantly running to throw up like in the movies. It is a bunch of little undetectable habits that to the naked eye may seem normal; but to a veteran mother are about as obvious as smiling during a poker game.

They start smelling your kids. Not in a creepy way, but in a I just pulled out fresh laundry and I want to inhale all its goodness kind of way.

They start incessantly liking all of your posts. Let's face it by the 50th post of your child smiling in a onesie, you've cut your target audience in half. 

They start asking super odd questions about your children’s sleeping habits and whether or not you avoided soft cheeses during your pregnancy.

Their social media pages become Grandma-friendly. Suddenly their girls' weekends in Vegas turn into wholesome dog walking photos on the beach.

If someone accidentally brushes up against their boobs, they flinch like you’ve just pegged them with a BB gun.

They start talking about napping and sleep the way children talk about Disneyland.

I respect all women’s right to privacy and ultimately it is their decision on when they decide to spill the beans. Just know that I see you out there gagging over the smell of pickles, giving death stares to smokers and it’s no secret that, that big burrito you said you ate for lunch is actually not a "food baby". 

Stir Crazy Rainy Daze

You’ve never truly known the meaning of the expression “stir crazy” until you’ve stayed at home with your kids on a rainy day. It would be one thing if I could plop them down in front of the TV with popcorn and let them watch Sesame Street until their brains turned into Alphabet Soup, but there is just something about being trapped indoors that brings out their inner hamsters on a wheel. Of course my children own rain gear and we could go out and splash in puddles or do other indoor activities, and it’s not so much the amount of effort it takes to suit them up and strip them down, but the fact that I’d have to change out of my PJ's, which is where in the plan that I must immediately throw down my all-powerful mommy veto.

To say that my house gets messy on these days is like saying a hurricane has mild wind and light rain. If someone were to pop over unexpectedly, I would be forced to turn off the lights and hide with my children in the pantry, since we passed suitable for guests with our Play-Doh and pasta food fight. Although this is probably unwise because I can see someone looking through our window and believing that we were the victims of a looting or perhaps the before picture for a show on HGTV and then immediately contacting the necessary authorities. However if this lands us on some sort of home makeover show where they send my family to Disneyland for a week, our last name is spelled with 3 r's, not 2.

These are the days where New Girl’s “True American” or Friends’ “Fireball” were invented-- except you aren’t still living in a loft with 4 other roommates and you have actual responsibilities, so none of your games can include alcohol or fire. Instead our wholesome family activities are a very literal translation of “climbing the walls” and me raiding various closets for novel items that my kids have yet to put in their mouths or hit each other with. The rain is expected to continue through the weekend, so things are about to get a whole lot more interesting over here. If you are reading this please send more Play-Doh and lots of coffee-- we might only be one rainy day away from matching mother and daughters' footie pajamas. 

Behind the Family Photo

Behind every family photo I can still feel the Herculean effort and coordination it took to get it. We are never just strolling through an orchard in flannel at sunset with a selfie stick. It starts with locating all family members, which can be difficult especially if you are in an open space. This feels a lot like herding cats who are very angry because you forced them to wear sweaters. The only time two independent toddlers want to be held is when your arms are already full of groceries or another child, so you are forced to artfully create a scene that makes the “arched back pose” seem natural (parents will also recognize it as the “it’s time to sit in your car seat pose”).

Never say cheese! That quickly reminds your children of the food bribe you have offered them to smile which is most definitely not a complete protein, but rather ice cream or something equally goopy and sticky that you have withheld from them for the sake of the outfits. The only break you seem to catch is that fall colors actually blend well with spills, snot, and dirt. You have long since ditched your dogs for the photo because wrangling that many wild animals is only something you'd enjoy watching on the Discovery Channel from the comfort of your couch. 

It is never the picture where you look gorgeous because in that one no one else does and this is simply sacrifice number one million two hundred fifty-six you’ve made since you became a mother, but who’s counting? They say a picture is worth a thousand words and even then, it's not the whole picture.