My mommy evolution

Nothing sends me into mommy mode faster than the quiet. Now you might be thinking, "Who doesn't like the quiet?  That's just crazy talk."  And the answer is simple. Me. Let me explain.

Silence in my house is a tell-tale sign that someone is potentially contemplating the use of a weapon of mass to moderate destruction.

Am I being paranoid? Do I perhaps have an unreasonable fear of letting go and letting god? Maybe, but here are some fun facts that have happened in our house when all seemed quiet on the western front.

I once left a green permanent marker unattended on my kitchen counter and went to answer the phone. When I returned five minutes later my three-year-old son had demonstrated his artistic talents all over my oak cupboards.

Another time I left an empty coffee mug next to my laptop computer and went downstairs to put some clothes in the dryer. When I came back upstairs one of my precious offspring had filled the mug with water from the fridge and poured it all over the keyboard. That was a fun day!

And I could go on...and on....and on, because for awhile there I was a pretty slow learner.

It didn't break me though....it made me stronger, smarter, faster. It gave me super powers. I now have bionic hearing and spidey senses that tingle when things are amiss. I am Santa. I know when they are sleeping and when they are awake. They cannot tell a lie because I have convinced them I can see a purple dot on their forehead when they do. Only mommies and daddies can see the dot. It's magic. They have held their hands on their head when sharing a "truth" but I've played poker and I know a "tell" when I see one.

My life as a mother has made me believe in evolution. I have had to constantly adapt to my circumstances, learn from my mistakes, anticipate potential threats, and practice my game face. I have stared boldly into a six-year-old's face while he explained to me how he had nothing to do with the fact that the cat no longer had any whiskers. Did I blink? No. Did I show emotion? I'm no amateur. Did I wait patiently and silently until he broke down and admitted he had given Cocoa a haircut? You bet I did.

But all this skill and aptitude came at a price. Lazy pajama days curled up with a good book are no longer an option. I used to think it would get easier when they got older. It doesn't. It just gets different. My daughter recently got her driver’s license so now if she's out with the car I spend my down time flinching every time the phone rings or someone knocks at the door. Sure I'm paranoid; I'm a parent who loves my children.

I've got to go. I just heard a crash followed by a whisper of, "I'm telling." 

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.