8 Ways I've Become THAT Mom (You Know Which Mom I Mean)

Dirty Harry
Yeah, I'm THAT mom. You want to say something about it?

There comes a time in many women’s lives when they make a startling realization. For me, that time came last week. I haven’t become my mom (I should be so lucky). No, it dawned on me that I’ve become that mom.

You know that one I’m talking about.

In fact, I know you do because you are either that mom, too, or you know that mom personally (many of them, probably).

Here are the 8 ways I know I’ve become that mom. Oh, and please tell me in the comments how and when you knew you became that mom (misery loves company, after all).

  • Carbohydrate faux-fish for breakfast 1 of 8
    Carbohydrate faux-fish for breakfast
    I'm that mom who has stopped bickering about why Goldfish crackers are not appropriate at 7:45 in the morning and just silently hands them over to her 3-year-old daughter instead.

    Image: Wikipedia
  • Cough? What cough? 2 of 8
    Cough? What cough?
    I'm that mom who has sent her kid to preschool with a cough louder than a chorus of barking German Shepherds.

    However, in my defense, clearly my kid got the cough from other kids whose moms likewise sent them to school with runny noses. Their moms are those moms, too, so I'm sure we can all just nod our heads in tacit solidarity, buy some Robitussin (because only moms like us would allow a kid younger than 5 to ingest that stuff) and move on.

    Image: Wikimedia Commons
  • How hard can it be to buy skis for a 3-year-old? 3 of 8
    How hard can it be to buy skis for a 3-year-old?
    I'm that mom who waited until two days before ski school started to think about getting her daughter equipment and then reacted with shock — shock! — when there were no more bargains to be had and ended up spending probably twice what she would have if she had her shit together three months earlier.

    By the way, feel free to substitute skis with ballet slippers, cleats, hockey skates or whatever other equipment you waited until the last minute to buy at a premium for your kid. Because I know I'm not alone on this one.

  • Go ahead. Make my day. No, really 4 of 8
    Go ahead. Make my day. No, really
    I'm that mom who makes your mind race as you wonder if you should call Child Protective Services after you see me in the store as I grab my older daughter's arm just tightly enough.

    It usually happens as I'm telling her for the nth time to stop banging my 5-month-old daughter on the head with the force of an Iron Chef in a race against time to deshell a pod of crustaceans with a mallet.

    When my arm-grabbing is ineffective, by the way, I'm that mom who leaves her older daughter curled up in a screaming ball of nuclear tantrum rage on the floor of the store while I make a quick getaway with the baby. The onlookers in the store Googling the number for CPS on their iPhones? They can have her.

    Image: Wikipedia
  • You looking at me? 5 of 8
    You looking at me?
    I'm that mom who has given up caring how I appear to strangers when I scream bloody murder at my kid after she has done something that would warrant me actually murdering her in bloody fashion. That's how moms like me roll, apparently.

    Image: Meredith Carroll
  • Baby? What baby? Oh, right. Mine 6 of 8
    Baby? What baby? Oh, right. Mine
    You know how you hear the stories of people forgetting their babies and you think, Who does that? Um, me, actually. That'd be me. I've never actually left my younger daughter somewhere, per se, but there have been some close calls. I'm that mom. Like when she was 2-weeks-old and my parents flew out for a visit. I drove them to their hotel and got out of the car.
    "I'll come inside with you to check in," I said to my dad.
    "I'll stay in the car with the baby," my mom volunteered.
    Oh, right. The baby. The baby is in the car. She's just so damn quiet, which is a new kind of problem in our family.

    Image: Wikimedia Commons
  • It’s my house and I’ll w(h)ine if I want to 7 of 8
    It's my house and I'll w(h)ine if I want to
    I'm that mom who stares at the clock in the afternoon and decides confidently that 4:15 isn't too early for a glass of wine.

    Image: Meredith Carroll
  • Revenge is sweet, just like that wine 8 of 8
    Revenge is sweet, just like that wine
    And if the neighbors give one another knowing looks when they see me refill my wine glass for the second (OK, third) time by 5:30? Well, then I'm also that mom whose revenge fantasies help lull her to sleep at night with a practically imperceptible but unmistakably evil smile on her face.

    Image: Wikipedia

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Article Posted 5 years Ago

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