* Why is it that we gag at other kid's boogers, spit up, poopies, tee-tees, and slobber, but we don't bat an eye with our own children's?
(Now, Cheeto fingers gag me every time ... I don't care who you are.)
* Why is it that every other kid's diapers smell horrific, but our babies' don't stink?
* Why does proper use of the English language go flying out the window when we talk to our babies?
* Why do we cheer when our toddlers clean their plate, but discourage it when they get older? (Adults aren't "supposed" to make a happy plate, but we bend over backwards trying to get our children to!)
* Why do we constantly teach them and help them toward their milestones and then cry when they reach them (wishing they were still teeny)?
* Why do we lose all sense of who we are when our babies laugh and turn into crazed screaming lunatic freaks trying to get them to keep giggling?
* Why is baby chub the cutest thing in life, but Mommy chub isn't?
* Why could I never give a care about superheroes, guns & bow and arrows, sports, and outer space, but because my kid loves them, I become interested, too.
* Why do I never know what day it is, but always know what time it is?
* Why do I catch myself singing the theme song to Super Why more than current radio hits?
* Why do I spend time trying to get my babies to sleep well and then worry (read: panic) about them if they sleep longer than expected?
* Why do these precious little babies consume our thoughts and turn us to mush?
Because we are their Mommy's. Their crazy, silly, bizarre little Mommy's.
And we can not be explained.