Over the last few days I've been having a lot of "Wow, this only happens when you have little kids" moments. So here they are; see if you identify with any of these.
You look over your living room, and your eyes kind of glaze over, skimming over the mess that has miraculously appeared in the short time since it was picked up and vacuumed.
You have uttered the sentence, "Dirty diapers are not toys!" any time recently.
You understand what is meant by this sentence: "Bwiget wants in a applesaucer!"
You have recently had this conversation, as a child snuggles down into your bed:
"Mommy, I have someping in my nose, I fink."
"That's your snot, dear."
"DO NOT blow your nose on the bedspread!"
Every third conversation seems to be about how, when, and where someone is going "Number 1" or "Number 2."
It takes two waiters to seat you because you have, besides your food, two strollers, a diaper bag, and a fistful of extra napkins.
You sit down and get up a full five times before you actually get a bite of food into your mouth.
"Dressed up to go out" means that you all changed into clean shirts and put your shoes on and/or got out of your pajamas.
The best part of eating out, actually, is that you may have a chance to use the bathroom sans kids, with the door closed.
More people know your kids' names than yours (is that a good, or a bad thing?)
You bring more things in with you than the Sunday School teachers do. Even the ones that teach the teenagers and have to bring bribes, or the ones that teach the 5- and 6-year-olds and have to bring pictures 'cause they can't read. (And we subscribe to the "no toys or snacks in Sacrament Meeting" brand of child-training. I don't know how we still end up with our hands full-- well, yes I do. Diaper bag, books, blankets, sweaters, sippy cups and baby snacks for after Sacrament Meeting, Maya Wrap, booties that the baby keeps pulling off, lesson manual for the third hour, scriptures...)
You plan to leave fifteen minutes before church starts, meaning everyone is dressed by half an hour before church starts, and the church is five minutes away, and your rears still hit the pew right as the opening music stops.
You spend every other prayer reminding your family that "It's prayer time. We need to be quiet now."
You have recently had a conversation about Jesus loving Superman, Elmo, or other fictitious characters.
The best part of church is actually not being "spiritually fed", but the fact that Nursery exists and there's always a sister who wants to hold your baby.
If several of these ring true for you or you have similar stories in the past week, YOU are probably a parent of small children!