You're not the only one

Planets aligned today. They must have because I was able to steal a couple hours to shop by my happy alone little self and not for just the house, the kids or the hubs. No! This was for me. My mission was clear: replace all the makeup my darling toddler deep sixed in the tub. I had gone without for nearly four months because, well, let's face it. Mom's give up certain luxuries to make sure winter coats can be afforded and there are a few extra Christmas presents under the tree come December 25th. My lip gloss was just going to have to wait.

No more! I was on target today. Striding into Sephora (I went whole hog on this endeavor, believe you me), I went for my favorite brand, filled my little basket up with goodies and bee-lined for the checkout. It was there that I realized how deeply entrenched lord WTF truly is.

"Wow, stocking up?" the woman asked me as I swiped my debit card and keyed in the pin. I could see the total racking up, but this was my Valentine's Day gift. I didn't feel too guilty.

"Replacing what was lost," I responded, waiting for the magic number to appear on the tiny LCD screen.

"Lost? You lost all your makeup?"

"My 2 year-old dumped it all in the tub."

Dead silence.

A chuckle, then laughter.

"Thank God I'm not the only mother in the world with a child like that. All my friends have little ones and they don't do what my son does. He destroys everything. Don't ask what he did with a permanent marker."

I nodded in camaraderie with this fellow soldier, this army of one, perhaps two if her husband was worth his salt. Yes, I knew what it was like to have daily incoming from an innocent looking child; their cherubic face lit up in joy as they discover new color combinations on your wall with markers that WILL NOT WASH OFF SHORT OF SAND BLASTING!

"No, you are not the only one. Hang in their, sweets," I said, giving my best smile and exiting the store. I drove to Target after to do the "Mom" shopping and came across a lovely 1 year-old girl starting to toddle after me in one of the clothing departments.

"Aww, she must like you, Ma'am," her father said, so full of pride and joy in his little fruit of his loins. I could relate. I get the same warm fuzzies when I see my kids, too. She had a pack of Crayola "My First Crayons" in her chubby sticky hands.

"Careful with those, hun, they're loaded," I snickered to the man, bidding him a good day, wondering on which glorious day his precious bundle was going to discover the color Burnt Orange and go to town all over his living room wall.

Haunted Houses

It is often said that kids say the darndest things and this is true. Wisdom can come out of the mouths of babes as well as...well, shining moments like this.

My darling daughter, six in age, came to me two nights ago declaring our house was haunted and we needed to move. I looked over my computer screen to spy the darling in her Strawberry Shortcake nightgown and ruffled hair with a smirk to my face.

"And why do you think the house is haunted, hun?" I asked, preparing to have her sit with me while we sorted out the whole "ghost hunters" experience she was having.

"There is magic in the house," she states solemnly. I stifled a giggle, wondering where the heck the magic was when I needed a mess cleaned up or couldn' t find any of my underwear in my drawers.

"Really?" I prompt, standing slowly to get her some hot cocoa.

"And witch's craps."

I stopped standing.

"Say that again, baby?"

"Witch's Craps, I tell you!"

"Indeed," I reply through tears. "Let's go wake your daddy and tell him about this."