1. The ability to diaper and infant as he is crawling across the floor or cruising around his night stand (since he refuses to lay still now for even the quickest of changes)
2. The laser eyes with which apon entering any place, I use to immediately scan the floor for any little thing my son may pick up and put into his mouth.
3. The quick hands with which after scanning the floor, I use with great speed to move any items on tables or floors that are fragile enough for my son’s curious hand’s to break.
4. The 6 arms I miraculously grow at various times to hold my son, carry in groceries, shut the car door, hold a bottled water, my purse, a diaper bag, and car keys, and still be able to pull my son’s hands apart from the lock of hair he has decided to pull from my scalp before I unlock the door to our house and let us in.
5. The strong stomach which can now handle the sight of diaper blowouts, spit up, snot, and drool and the humility to even use my own clothes to wipe some of the liquids up in cases where there is no burping rag in sight.
6. The unconditional love which seems to withstand being woken up 10 times in one night because my son is sick and cannot breathe or just thinks that it is a good time to play. Or while few and far between, the ability to withstand even the most angry wailing child who does not want to be put down, but does not want to be held, and does not want a pacifier or a diaper change or food or a bottle or a kiss and yet is quite keen on making sure I know that he is mad and doesn’t know why.
7. The ability to laugh in hindsight at remembering a moment when my son had a lump of mashed potato still left on his bottom lip after he was finished and I, without thinking, wiped it off with my finger and then put it in my mouth and ate it. (huh?…why did I just do that?)