Georgia had a doctor's appointment the other day. Henry and Georgia go to a clinic with many doctors and nurse practitioners. Instead of Georgia's usual doctor we saw a nurse practitioner that I've never met before. A few minutes into the exam the nurse says to me, "You know, you're kind of famous around here."
Oh, really? The short redhead with four small children, two with light skin and two with brown skin, who drags her babies through your clinic every few weeks as they yell and careen off the walls is "famous around here"? I'll just bet.
"Oh, yeah? Because I have so many babies?"
"Not just that," she smiled, "but also you're so good with them. You do a great job."
Oh.
Cool.
Thanks.
I'm only writing this down so that on my crappiest of crap days when I feel like I must be the worst mom in the world I can remember that in one little microcosm of our community, I have at least successfully created the illusion that I have my shit together. And that's as good as it gets for a mom with four kids under four years old.
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