Be afraid

Yesterday I put my pants on backwards.

Twice.

Sometimes I think that motherhood has morphed me into something I don't even recognize - some crazy lady walking around with her pants on wrong. And while we're on the subject of politics, (Oh, we're not? Well. . . . . We are now.) I'm not really a Sarah Palin fan. Mostly because I can't really figure out what she is talking about most of the time. But I have a very good idea of what the phrase "Momma Grizzly" means, because I turn into one sometimes (but only on the full moon). I've always loved kids; long before I had my own I was a teacher and a babysitter and worked in day-care and LOVED it. My adoration of other people's children has diminished a bit now - my kids are so much cuter, it isn't their fault. But I still like other kids too.

EXCEPT. . .

Have you ever watched elementary school kids walk? I've seen drunk guys who pay more attention to where they are going, and they weave less. The other day I was picking up my kindergartener from school, and we had to walk through an entire hallway full of these kids to get to him. Naturally, my 20-month-old wanted to walk herself, so I was watching especially carefully to keep her from getting trampled. A small herd of kids were walking toward us, and of course they didn't see us even when we were only a few feet away. I tried to think of ways to keep them from plowing into my daughter. The easiest and quickest option that popped into my mind was to trip them.

And I almost did.

Seriously, I was thisclose to sticking my foot out in front of some little third-grader. Because when it comes to my kids whatever is left of my rational brain goes right out the window.

Thats right folks, the future generation has been entrusted to my hands - which are cold. I'd put them in my pockets, but I can't seem to find them.

Be very afraid.