Karma's a Witch

I remember the days when I slept in till noon and did nothing but read books all day with a cup of hot cocoa on my lap.  I remember when my biggest concern was where we were going to eat on our Friday date nights.  I remember being able to spend hours in front of the television watching what ever I wanted without worrying about what little eyes might be seeing.  I even remember being able to sing along to the radio without someone having a nerves breakdown in my backseat.  I can remember a time without kids.

I can also remember a time being a “Judgey Mc Judger”.

I know what you're thinking.  "What?! You?! NO!  You are the most beaten down mom there is!  You would never have any room for judgment."

Alas, I wish it were true.  But no.  I have a troublesome past rot with pre-conceived notions of motherhood. 

I remember when I would see mom’s with their kids in target or walmart and they would look so frazzled and their kids would be running around like demon children and I thought. “Oh, that would never fly in my house.”  Or, I would see kids with runny noses and the mom would make no attempt to wipe it and I’d think, “Oh, that would never fly in my house.”  Or the best would be when I’d see a toddler screaming “NO!” at his mom at Publix and think, “Ooh, that would NEVER fly in my house.”

Oh yes, Karma is a bitch.

Because guess who that frazzled, snot stained, degraded mom is now?  This lady!

And just because God loves me best, He has found a way to constantly remind me of the error of my ways.  A continued reminder of how far I have fallen and will forever remind me of my sin of judging others.

Back before I had children my husband and I would sometimes go out late.  Why not?  We're adults!  We have no curfew!  We can do what we want.  And some times I would have a hankering for Mexican.  And some times we would go to this hole in the wall authentic Mexican place at 10:30 at night because it was authentically open late and usually full of Mexican's.  (That's how you know its good.)

I remember almost every single time, as soon as we would be seated I would see kids, young kids, littered all over the floor of this restaurant. 

Eww!  I would point these toddlers out to my husband and whisper things like:

"Ugh!  Why are these kids even awake?  Shouldn't they be in bed?" 
"They are like, on the floor!  That is so disgusting!"
"What kind of parents keep their toddlers up past 10 and then let them take a nap on the floor of a restaurant?"
"That would never fly in my house!"

...

Fast forward about 6 years and now I have not only a wonderful magically well behaved daughter but I also have a child that will make me regret every "Judgy McJudger" thought I have ever considered having.   My son.

Do you know what I catch my son doing more often then any other bad behavior you can think of?

Mexican kids!
Always on the floor!
(At target)

You guessed it!

I am forever finding my son on the floor, like it's his job and ever time I turn around hoping to find my son vertically following me down the aisle of Target, I more often then not find him sprawled out on the floor as if he is the latest "Life Line" commercial.

So, every time I think about all the bacteria he is rubbing into his hair and clothing I am reminded of all those years ago when I thought I had it together.  When I thought that I would be different.  That I would be that mom that gets it right.

Yeah...

It's a Party!  At Party City.
(the ghetto one, yay) 

Karma's a Bitch.

And PS:  Now everything flies in my house.

Antenella