It's Official, I'm a Mom

From time to time you might wonder what really qualifies someone as "mom." Is it simply procreating or is there something more to it? There are a few things about my mom that stick out in my mind, that shout loud and clear..."MOM!!!"

First there's the fact that she always cleaned up after the pets when they emptied their insides out in the house in any fashion. Often we'd pretend we didn't even see or smell it and let her discover the pile of puke. I know it wasn't nice or pleasant, but Dad was just as guilty as the rest of it, which somehow made it OK when I was young. In any case, as I grew I always figured that when I was the one to scrape poop off the kitchen floor after bringing in bags of groceries...well, then I'd officially be a mom.

Lucky for me, we don't have a pet yet. We have, however, cleaned up after our kids in a similar fashion, which I think qualifies both Scott and I as parents.

Today I took my time with working my way through another miserable right of passage that without question brands me a mom: lice. I know, you're itchy aren't you?

I remember having lice checks at school. I don't remember if any was ever found on my head during the school year, but I remember the lines at the nurse's office, waiting to have our hair picked through with chop sticks. Even if I didn't have the nasty nits and bugs in my hair during the school year, I did in the summer...every year after 4H camp. I loved camp, had a great time, and came home with new experiences, crafts, and head lice every year.

I didn't enjoy sitting still while mom washed my hair with something gross smelling and then pulled half of it out with that little comb. Apparently, by the next summer, the memories of getting lice treatment didn't out weigh the ones of the fun I was bound to have at camp...because I'd go back and do it all again!

Well, Gracie hasn't been to camp, but she's had her first lice treatment. Unlucky girl. The teacher called me to come pick her up and we stopped at the store for the gross smelling shampoo, which thankfully no longer smells gross. After washing her hair with that we sat watching Dora and Diego for over two hours and I went through her long, strong, used-to-be-fond-of hair with a fine toothed comb. OK, I still do love her hair, but while I was trying to get every little egg out of it...didn't like her luscious locks then.

So, now I'm a mom. Hopefully I won't need to be reminded of this again anytime soon!