how i know i'm a mom


i have started researching nyc neighborhoods with the best schools. file this under things my twenty year old self said that she would never say or do.

my most common google searches all revolve around toddler sleep schedules, the color of marlo's poop, nyc play/pre-schools, and indoor toddler-friendly nyc activities. before i was pregnant, my top google searches revolved around bars that poured guinness, j brand sales, and the latest gossip on celebrities that made me feel better about myself.

BM (before-marlo) i would see a mom and daughter dressed alike and would instantly throw up in my mouth a little. now, we're the ones making people heave. i have no shame in my mini-me game and marlo now has a uniform eerily similar to my own: jorts, high-top chuck taylors, chambray anything and everything, skinny jeans, white or grey tees, messy hair, and always accessorized with some sort of food stain somewhere on her at all times. if i could only wear little bloomers in public, we'd totally be twins.

BM, i used to live in silk, leather, and cashmere. now, when buying clothing for myself, i have to ask myself: can i wear this on the playground without my crack or tots showing? if marlo throws her food at me, will it be ruined? does marlo have (or now need) something like this so we can be all matchy-matchy? is it multi-functional (read: can i also sleep in it)? is it age-appropropriate?*

almost monthly, i get an alert on my phone that tells me there is no available photo storage and until i delete some photos (gasp! never!) or upload them to my computer, i cannot take any more photos. this means two things: one, the next iphone i buy will have the maximum photo storage capabilities; and two, i take way too many photos of my kid. (exhibit a.) but she's so damn cute that i just can't help it. could you?

i'm not sure if this is indicative of me being a mom or my age showing, but i get extremely uncomfortable when i see young girls wearing short shorts that show their bum. i want to finger-scold them and tell them that they are going to attract nothing but the wrong kind of attention. i want to tell them that they are ruining their lives (dramatic, much?). i want to hug them. and then go buy them some more age-appropriate** pants.

*mom, stop gloating. and laughing.
**yes, mom, i never thought i'd say it either. you were RIGHT.



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