I am who you say I am

Mommy Proof #12: I am who you say I am.

Rushed and hungry. Tired and irritable. Relaxed and jovial. Let's be honest. It depends on the time of month or day or week. If you catch me doing errands in the beginning of the week, I am calm. I laugh at every little thing the kids do. I make these witty jokes when one of them knocks something down. I giggle if they tell one of their lame "Knock, Knock" jokes. You may hear me loudly say, "You pick out the cereal." "You get to carry the bread." "You get to push the cart!" I am SuperMom! I grocery shop/clothes shop/eat out/insert errand here with four small children. I make it a learning experience. I make it fun. I allow them to skip while quietly urging them to respect the other customers/patrons/random errand people. I am awesome. You say it to yourselves. You may even whisper it to others. I leave the place in a parade of compliments....in my head.

If you see me at the store late during the day and midweek, you will see an exhausted mom trying to herd four small children through a sea of shoppers. That scowl you see on my face is from a combination of battling a small freakishly strong toddler that has fought a nap all day and low blood sugar. The latter is probably the result of fully cooked meal that is sitting in ruins on the stove. Those horribly behaved children are just acting out from hunger and exhaustion. See picture below.

Now, last but not least, is the dreaded monthly visitor that visits that vast majority of mommies every 28 days. (Or whatever is normal for your cycle. Who am I to judge?) It may be a few days before. It may be the day she chooses to show. I don't really care what day it is. Because if you see me on that day, you will think I am the most evil person you have ever seen. You may think that I have never cracked a smile...That my children have never ended their nights in pillow fights that were urged on by their mother...Or that they have never met the Tickle monster who ends the night with a bedtime story, cuddle, and a kiss...Those poor babies of mine.

The truth is: I don't really care what day it is. Every day, I try to get by the best way I can. It is not always easy. Mommies get tired. Mommies have PMS. Mommies have low blood sugar. Mommies have marital issues. Mommies deal with death. Mommies get sick. Mommies fight cancer. Mommies get depressed. Mommies have good days. Mommies have bad days.

Even on those days, they still have children who get hungry. They still have errands that need to be run. They still have a job to do. You may see me at my wit's end, but you don't come home with us. You do not see us laughing at the dinner table. You don't see me kissing them good night. You are not watching when I check on them, one last time, before I finally retire for bed. For one brief moment, I am who you say I am. The real question is: Who are you to judge? And to the answer of your other question: Yes, that is margarita mix in my cart.