Just now, while I was lying on my back on the kitchen floor letting Hunter -- who'd been quite cranky and needed a cheering-up -- have his fill of crawling on top of me, eating my face and wiping his nose on me (the fun of this was only lessened by the fact that I pulled the hell out of back muscle in the process), it occurred to me that I am much more than a stay-at-home mom. To wit, a list:
•Human Kleenex
•Chew toy
•Rope (for tug-of-war)
•A mime (apparently I'm gesturing wildly but nothing is coming out of my mouth because no one is hearing me; fortunatley, this one works more and more to my advantage, as I perfect my own mother's "stop-that-now-or-you'll-pay" look and my ability to point to make my demands known and abided by.)
•Furniture (for pulling yourself up on)
•DJ (this one's not so bad, unless I'm forced to play that Madagascar movie song 11 times in a row)
•Verifier of "cool moves"
•Chef (albeit a not very good one ... actually, I'd say I'm more a "lunch lady" -- in appearance and demeanor -- than a chef)
•Mechanic (I fix all cars, whether they're actually broken or not)
•Architect (Legos, baby ... this is a good one)
•Vigil-keeper (I keep a constant vigil over what Hunter might/could/possibly find on the floor and put in his mouth; of course, with a 3-year-old around, the possibilities are endless)
It's an ongoing list, ever evolving. I'd love to keep adding to it, but someone's using his Human Furniture to demand his Lunch Lady satisfy his cravings.
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