A few years back, well, just about three actually, we took Carson up to Westminster for a visit right after he was born. And a dear friend of ours, Julie Lewis, told us that we just entered the most un-cool time of our life. She said we'd get cool again when our kids get older. I didn't really get that at the time. I mean, as I got older, my parents got LESS cool. But yesterday, while being visited by one of my sweet youth kids, Allie, I got it.
You see, I speak "baby poop" now. If you want to have a conversation on the phone with me, it will likely be interupted every couple of minutes because someone fell, cried, needs to be fed, needs to go to the bathroom, etc. If you really want me to catch you up on what is going on in my life, you better sit back, because you will hear about my struggle to keep Carson from putting "mine finger in mine butt" or my issues with Lyla spitting up on me anytime I have REAL clothes on. Or how Carson now doesn't only COME INTO the bathroom with me, but now tells me "I watch you mama", like a creapy stalker or how he wants to "see" what's in the potty after. If you want to stop by to visit, you will smell the nice scent of soiled diapers, spit up and dirty dog and will likely trip and fall on something in the floor. I won't have much to offer you to eat or drink except baby food, O's or a juice box. If you want to hang out in my backyard, you will have to watch your step, because I already deal with enough poop to care about picking up the dogs. I wash my hair MAX of three times a week, I know NO hip languge, bands, shows. I go to bed at ten and I'm up at 6.
I am at the most uncool of my life.
But my kids don't think so. :)
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