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I'm Not Crazy I am a Mother

Updated on December 9, 2014

I'm a crazy mother.....


There are days I know I look crazy. A woman wearing the same jeans you always see her in (which by the way they are my "out" of the house jeans because nothing fits me after 3 kids!) with a messy bun that looks like it may have been nice 2 hours ago (the time I was supposed to be leaving the house) dragging a 4 year old, pushing a 2 year old, and an infant car seat in the cart on the way into the store. I know I look crazy.


Walking through the store muttering my list over and over to myself because my very helpful daughter wanted to carry it in her purse and *poof* it was gone. Frantically as a half jog I am running through the aisles while I pull my 4 year old girl along trying to get her to participate in my “game” by using my over the top highly animated FUN voice. She of course ever the serious child is not buying it, but I really need to hurry through the store to get out before the baby wakes up. Looking so very unorganized while I try to check my coupons to the price on the shelf tag (man I wish I had my list) I am also trying to keep my 2 year old calm as he fights me to get out of the cart. I know I look crazy.


Did I mention that the super nice teller at the bank LOUDLY asked if my children would like lollipops? I don’t think she has children. So now I am in the store licking my arm to get the sticky candy off and spit shining my son’s face as I try to rush through the store. Oh no I heard it the dreaded lolly hits the floor noise! My son screams and cries as I pick up all the little pieces and find garbage to throw them in. I know I look crazy.


The baby is awake now and crying after my son’s fit over the lolly (can’t a girl catch a break here?). Out of the car seat he comes. The oldest boy is now asking why the baby can get out of the cart. I try to explain he was crying …wrong answer. Now the oldest boy is crying because, well that’s how you get out of the cart my mom said, right? At least my daughter is behaving herself; oh wait where is she? Yelling her name as my heart flies from my chest I see her peak out at me from under the paper towel shelf. She is covered in dirt and I have no idea what else. Standing by a shelf as I place my daughter into time out for running off I see people start to stare. I know I look crazy.


I have to get out of the store now even if I am missing a few items, because if I don’t I am going to go crazy. Dragging the cart behind me baby in my arms I get to the check out where I sound like a broken record. No you can’t have candy its 9:00 o’clock in the morning. Lather, rinse, repeat 10 times until the cashier is completely sick of hearing it, but not my oldest children they are still trying to get some type of candy. I know I look crazy.


Loading up the kids into the car I look at them and can’t help but smile because we made it! I got almost everything I needed to get and still have all 3 of my kids. I load my purchases into the car and walk to the cart return (which I parked beside because that is a prime mommy parking spot when you have little ones). Walking back to my car sticky, sweaty, and covered in spit up I no longer care if I look crazy because I know I look like a mother.



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    • AtHomeHeather profile image
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      Heather 5 years ago from PA

      Thank you for the feed back, the follow, and the very warm welcome! I look forward to getting to read more from you in the future!

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      oceansider 5 years ago

      Hi Heather, I really enjoyed your article! I laughed as I read it because I have been through just about everything you've mentioned! My kids are grown now, but I do remember...& as you said...you look like a mother...it's not crazy...just normal stuff. This was a very clever and cute article! Voting this up, funny and interesting!...AND, thank you so much for following my hubs. I am now going to follow yours too! I wish you the best here at Hub Pages....welcome to our writer's community. I've been here a couple of months so far & love it.

      Take care, Helen