Crazy's contagious. Cover your mouth.

I honestly thought that when I had a baby I'd be like Angelina Jolie when she had her first child.  Carrying around my oh-so peacefully sleeping newborn in a sling across my "bounced right back to my pre-baby" body.  I'd have a smile on my Ray Ban aviator adorned face, looking calm and freshly showered, browsing through the new arrivals clothes rack at H. Audrey’s.  Boy, was I in for a rude awakening.  Well, it would've been if I ever got any sleep to be awakened from, that is.

And if the paparazzi would've caught a glimpse and taken a picture of my first days as a mom, you would've witnessed the other, not advertised use for the sling...the straight jacket.  

After hours of wrapping, tying, unwrapping and untying, I looked like I was an escapee from the local psych ward.  In hind sight, it was one of the first warnings of the days to come, but I digress.  So instead of a sling, my oh-so NOT-so peacefully sleeping newborn, would be in a carrier attached to a stroller that of course, won't squeeze through the clothes racks at H. Audrey’s.  And it wouldn't matter anyway because the minute the stroller stopped, the wailing started.  So I would be left to “drive-by” shopping.  Grab anything in black, or body-slimming dark, that’s “hung” on the hanger.  Not something that looked like the hanger had to be sucked through it and that was on sale because as the saying goes, baby needs a new pair of shoes...and diapers, wipes, bibs, onesies, the long sleeved and short sleeved and the ones that zipper, not the ones that button because trying to button up a onesie at 3am with one eye open, in a zombie like trance, in the dark is like trying to read brail except you’re not technically blind and you have no idea how to read brail!!!

Now where was I, off topic, AGAIN.  Blame it on the “Mommy Brain”.  It works every time.  People will either empathize with you, if they have children, or have absolutely no idea what that means and just the idea of putting “Mommy” anything in a sentence to people without children, especially those who don’t want them or are nowhere near having them, will think you’re crazy and nobody questions crazy.  

Crazy’s unpredictable, scary and to some, contagious.  So use it...overuse it.  Use it when the grocery clerk sees you drop an unpaid Chapstick in your diaper bag because you’re not an Octopus and you only have two hands and your baby just projectile vomited down aisle 5 and all over your produce, you didn’t bag, because since the baby you swore you were going green, organic, all natural, gluten free and every other "thrown in your face, you best be following because if you don’t follow you’re a terrible mother" trend.  Use it to get you out of a speeding ticket.  On one occasion I had 4 car seats in my vehicle because one was designer (but the baby hated it), one “looked” designer, one was on the top of the FDA’s safest list and one was recalled.

And depending on who I was having a play date with and wanted my baby to be seen in, well, I had options.  But back to getting out of the speeding ticket.

When I was pulled over, by two young, male officers, and asked for my license and registration, well, I of course didn’t remember moving the registration paperwork to a compartment in the trunk because I needed to make the teensy, tiny room in the glove box for emergency items only.  Because once you’re a mother, the comfortable, safe, trusting, what could go wrong world you lived in before you were a mother, becomes a stink-eye, I see what you’re doing even though you don’t think I see what you’re doing, because I have eyes in the back of my head, worry filled, frequently checking the predator list in your neighborhood, if it can go wrong it will world you live in now.  And to be prepared for anything, I carefully loaded this teensy, tiny space with whatever I could fit and thought would come in handy.  A diaper and travel package of wipes, self explanatory...tissues, and a plastic spoon, again self explanatory...a map (which I could probably make some money off of on Ebay because I’m pretty sure they don’t make them anymore), in case I get lost on my way to a new play date and my iPhone falls in between the seats and manages to slip just far enough that even my longest finger nail can’t get a grip on it.  This leads me to my next essential item, a nail file, again self explanatory...a swiss army knife, a screwdriver and a some extra fuses because I just feel stronger and safe to know that they’re in the there.  And most important of all some chocolate covered coffee beans and a pair of oversized sunglasses to hide the sleep deprived bags under my eyes.

Thankfully the officers didn’t actually look in my glove box because they may have thought I was a terrorist.  Fortunately, they simply walked me to the back of my SUV, because what other type of vehicle has that kind of "make you feel like you’re driving a tank, safe feeling" when traveling with a baby.  And as soon as I opened the hatch and revealed the four car seats, only one of which I was using because I only had one baby, the “Mommy Brain” excuse made perfect sense to the officers.  Now I’m not sure if it was empathy or "this bitch must be crazy to have four kids", got me off the hook or not, but who cares.  I got off with a warning.