Before I became a Mom, I was positive that I was never going to be That Mom.
I was never going to be That Mom who didn’t have time to shower.
I was never going to be That Mom who gave up dinners out, Girl’s Nights and cocktail hours.
I was never going to be That Mom who “let” her kid scream on a plane.
I was never going to be That Mom who gave her baby a french fry or a non-organic vegetable. 
I was never going to be That Mom whose baby fell off the bed the day he learned to crawl or That Mom who overreacted and rushed her baby to the ER for every bump on his head. 
As it turns out, I am That Mom.
I can’t remember if I brushed my teeth today but I did put on pants leggings, so I’m considering that a win.
If given the chance, I will happily crawl into bed with my husband and watch re-runs of Big Bang Theory instead of arranging for a sitter, putting on Spanx and going out for dinner and drinks. 
Hey, at least I still crave his company.
While I’m very proud that we haven’t stopped traveling that means that I have held the screaming baby who is inconsolable on a plane (and felt the glares of my fellow passengers).
I happily feed my baby pancakes, tortillas or a french fry or two if it means that I can enjoy the meal that someone else is cooking, serving and cleaning up after.
My son rocketed himself head first off of my bed 12 hours after he officially began crawling -all while I was standing just inches from him – and I rushed him to the Children’s ER. After the doctor kindly asked us to leave so that he could attend to children who were actually hurt, we realized that the final diagnosis he had written on the hospital paperwork read: “forehead abrasion” thanks to the teensy little scratch on the babe’s forehead. 
First time parents, party of two? 
Yep. That’s us.
Before I had a baby, I was wrong about the type of Mother I would be. 
More importantly, I was wrong in the way that I looked at those who were actively Mothering around me. I was wrong to shoot a toddler mama doing her best to handle a public tantrum in Target a side eye. I was wrong to look at the newborn mama who had her baby out in the chilly weather with judgement. I was wrong to roll my eyes at a girlfriend who didn’t want to meet for drinks because it interfered with bedtime. 
Those poor Mamas were just doing their best to survive and there I was on my That Mom high horse judging their survival strategies.  
Childless Bitch, party of one?
Yep. That was me. 
So, tonight I raise my wine glass to those of us who are eating their slice of That Mom humble pie. This Mothering business is one slobber covered adventure not fit for the faint of heart.
Can I get an Amen?

Linking up with Annie and Natalie for Thoughts for Thursday