Apparently when you have three kids, you've reached the threshold of complete parental wisdom.
Funny, I thought it was just utter sanity.
But according to random people I see at the mall or my 4000 visits to Super Target, I really know what I'm doing by now.
Personally, I think they're just sublimating their urge to tell you how nuts you are. In fact, I just change everything they say after the word "you're" to "one crazy bitch" and it makes perfect sense.
inspiring, amazing, a hero ONE CRAZY BITCH!"
I mean, I never really thought of myself as a slacker with one or even two kids. But I guess when that third one pops out, you've seen it twice and now know everything there is to know. Hell, you're practically the Patron Saint of Mothers.
So let me clear the air right now and tell you that having three kids does not mean you are a parenting expert. On the contrary, you're probably just as much a rookie as the new mom down the street, except you've got an entire litter to deal with rather than just one precious baby. It takes massive skills to effectively manage an older child who's asking you what the sky is made out of, a middle child who could pass for a reallllllllly short UFC fighter, and a baby who must eat now. Right now. I SAID NOW BITCH. NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.
Those skills do not pop out along with your third child, although I have thought about scrounging around up in there to see if I forgot to push something out.
If I popped out little robots, perhaps. But I'm dealing with humans - unpredictable, complicated itty bitty humans who know that you think you're so smart and experienced with your fancy infant nail clippers that they budge just a millimeter so you cut off the tippy top of their finger.
You can only imagine the inner dialogue of a post partum mom of 3 contemplating an ER visit because she's convinced that the tip of her third child's finger will not stop bleeding.
And they know how smug you are to leave them half naked on your bed because they just peed and in your breadth of mothering experience they won't pee again.
Apparently they also know how much you love to do laundry.
And even though I've made many successful trips outside of the house with all three kids in tow without a tantrum or worse, my nipple hanging out, I have yet to figure out how it's possible that anyone could take one look at me with all three kids together and get "she knows what she's doing."
Seriously people. Try walking condom commercial.