I mean living in a house with three adorable boys, okay two adorable boys and one hotsy totsy man, is usually pretty great. As of now, I'm in high demand. Mommy is the top dawg when it comes to repairing boo boos, broken hearts and hurt feelings.Secretly I love being the preferred parent when things go awry, I mean mama is the bees knees at this point in juncture. I bask in it, because I know that my clock is a-ticking... my days are numbered in this joint, because pretty soon daddy is going to be the go to guy and mommy will just be that lady that picks out their clothes and reminds them to clip their fingernails just because I was born with a totally different set of parts and I just won't understand.
Sometimes, I get a quick glimpse of my future, like today when we were browsing the mall, picking up new duds for the hubsters office apparel, and instead of fawning over the newest styles and trends, Theo, Daddy and Elliot were playing hide and seek in the clothes racks, and pretending to be mannequins. I mean I know that they are kids, but my eyes couldn't help but drift to the teenage girls and their moms excitedly picking out prom dresses together making plans to color coordinate with dates and flowers, and then notice the little brothers sulking in the corner just praying to be anywhere else.
That. That right there. That is my future. Times 2. Two boys who will pretty soon outgrow their mommy, and despise being seen in public with her. Multiply that with stinky feet, sweaty sports equipment, and jock itch cream and my head is already starting to spin. I mean, in the 4 hours we were out together both boys had spilled enough food and drink on their church clothes, that I almost lost my mind. How many freaking ruined shirts are we going to have to go through in this lifetime? Anxiety defcon 5 damnit.
Oh geez, and pretty soon, our television will be completely hijacked (as opposed to mostly which is the case now) by sports 24/7 and my life will be consumed with sports, face shaving and arm pit hair.
It's all just a little much for me to handle. Luckily the big guy upstairs eases you into all of this with about 4 good years of mommy bonding time, and I'm hoping, just hoping that the culture shock won't be quite as awful as I'm imagining in my mind.
I love those little suckers, even if I'm always outnumbered.