It’s 9pm in my house and pretty much silent. Just the background noise of Cougar Town recorded on my DVR forever ago and I just never got around to watching, and of course the tap-tap-tapping of my keyboard keys as I write this post. I hurried my children through their evening routine tonight preparing for bed all for a few me minutes, and yes I know that due to the icy roads and snow outside my kids have no school tomorrow… but they don’t know that, so shhhh! School is my excuse to get them to bed on time.

Here I am. Alone. Typing. Reminiscing. Don’t worry, I won’t cry… too much.

At 14 and 9, my children are no longer babies. Cuddling, holding, dirty diapers, bottles, all long gone. But no worries, all have been replaced with waiting, dirty underwear on the floor, and dirty dishes that never make it to the sink. One part of life, replaced with another. All part of growing and becoming their own big person.

Those little baby moments. I love to remember them, and I sure do like to embarrass my kids when it comes to sharing those little moments in life that embarrassed me to no end when they were growing.

Like… my son at age 3 expressing himself loudly in a crowded movie theater restroom that his poop would not come out and could I help him. I laughed it off like all moms do in a room filled of other women. I found out the next day that a co-worker’s wife had been in the restroom, heard every word, and he eagerly shared it with everyone in my office.

Or… a normal visit to the pet store for dog food, my children and I took our normal stroll around to all the pets. My daughter, around age 4, seemed extremely frustrated at the loud chirping of the birds. Out of the blue, she bellowed for the birds to, “shut the hell up” or she would “step on them all.” I could feel the fire in my face as I smiled and moved on. My Navy mouth finally caught up with me on that one!

I laugh at the many silly moments of mom embarrassment – being grabbed on the boobs,  foul words escaping little mouths, vomiting as we sit down in a restaurant, the bath being used for more than the bath – it is all part of being mom. Sure, red faced and embarrassed at the moment these memories happen, they are my battle scars for raising my two rowdy, yet lovable, kids.

Diving in and reading all the fun, messy essays in See Mom Run, I realized what I had always known, I’m not alone in the mommy world. Foul words, puke, poop and dirty kids are all the milestones of raising youngsters for a mom. And all those memories, such great ammunition!

Disclosure: I am part of SV Moms Group regional blog Deep South Moms and received a free copy of See Mom Run to participate in the monthly book club. I was not obligated to write about this book and all opinions are my own.