I am not tuesday's child

I can pull a booger out of a little nose with one quick swipe of the pinky before you even know what just happened. I can change a diaper with one hand while stacking a tower of blocks as high as the sky with the other. I can catch a falling child with one foot while carrying a boiling pot of water, patting my head, rubbing my belly and belting out the best rendition of the Itsy Bitsy Spider you’ve ever heard. I am stealthy. A warrior. A mom. A ninja.

It was dark. Sunday. 4am… 3am if you factor in the Spring time fuck. Er, time change. Spring time change.

I was in the middle of dream where someone was screaming at me so I clocked them upside the head.

Then I realized I had launched the dog off the bed…

…and that the screaming was actually coming through the monitor.

Summer had woken up. Holy molars, I can’t wait until the last 3 teeth are in. I stepped over the baby gate we keep at her door at night, went into her room, laid down on the bed next to her, and shushed and pat pat patted her back until she fell back to sleep. Easy peasy.

Snoring. Success! I started my countdown like I always do before getting off the bed just to make sure she was truly asleep. 1 one thousand… 2 one thousand… 3 one thousand…

…25 one thousand. I slyly slid out of the bed and onto the floor with a silent sideways somersault, a catlike move I now have perfected.

I slid across the wood floors with my socks, sashaying past books and toys and the creakiest spots without making a peep.

I took one last peek over my shoulder to make sure she was really asleep, breathed in and out a deep relieved sigh, headed out the bedroom door,

and then I crash both knees into the baby gate and fell on the floor.

I’m a ninja, I never said I was graceful.

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