The other day, when I was picking up Liam from daycare, a preschool-aged girl -- probably about 3 or 4 -- stopped me in the hallway and said, "are you someone's mommy?"
I had to chuckle at the question because wow, did it ever sound weird. I am someone's mommy! I have a SON! I know it's not particularly weird to be 30 years old and have a 6-month-old child, but it still makes me laugh/scares me to death sometimes that I'm responsible for raising a little boy. I'm the one who's going to help him with his homework, teach him to drive (OK - that might be Brad's job), walk him down the aisle, and babysit his own children. And I still feel like a kid myself most days. Weird weird weird.
On a less-weird note, Liam has another cold. I figured he was due, since he has made it a whole month without the daycare plague. Aside from the concrete in his nose, he doesn't really seem worse for the wear, and despite waking up every 2 hours last night (which is sometimes a normal thing for him anyway), he's his happy, cheerful self.
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