1. The fact that pretty much all the moms at the kids' school are taller than me.
2. The lighting on Game of Thrones.
3. Rain.
4. Super Oldest's passion for dance and the resulting company of dance moms that I have to deal with on a weekly basis.
5. The inevitability of aging, death, and that the child visiting for a playdate will find the cat vomit first.
6. Girls' pants sizing.
7. Any comments section.
8. Ocean tides.
9. Other people's children.
10. The reality that there will be at least one moment a day, but more likely 56 of them, when I look around and think "I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. Do these other people know that I don't know what I am doing? Why haven't they figured it out yet; it's not like I am hiding my incompetence well or anything."
11. Dust.
12. Cats.
13. Super Daughter's passion for softball and the resulting company of sports moms that I have to deal with on a weekly basis.
14. How slow the hours go.
15. How fast the years go.
16. That teacher appreciation week is 4 weeks before the last day of school and I am way too Mayed out to be crafty so I buy a gift card and some chocolate and send it to school in a Ziploc bag and call it a win.
17. Mosquitos.
18. Most of the US government's foreign policy.
19. The transition from baby to toddler and that it will most likely happen during church or in front of the PTA president or in a store that has a lot of glass ornaments about 2 and a half feet off the floor.
20. Red lights.
21. My inner 13-year-old, who enjoys popping up multiple times a day to whisper defeatist nonsense in my ear about how pretty all the other moms are and how they all have it together and and what palaces their houses are and how clean everything they touch is and what they whisper about me when I am not there and how their children don't eat dirt during school pickup or climb onto the roof of their vans and pretend to be Dr. Frankenstein harnessing the coming storm for nefarious purposes.
22. The hormones of a preteen and how they force the eyes of said preteen to roll at the merest mention of helping with the dishes.
23. How easily I cry.
24. Gravity.
25. That the laundry is never actually finished unless you are doing it naked.
26. The unflattering light in changing rooms.
27. Time.
28. Space.
29. Who my children want to be friends with.
30. My husband's aversion to pants and his belief that socks belong under the coffee table.
31. Genes.
32. Tornadoes.
33. Other people's opinions.
34. That weird week in October when it gets really hot and doesn't behave like fall in the slightest.
35. Other drivers.
36. That it will rain the day of the zoo field trip or the temperature will resemble the surface of the sun.
37. Superbowl outcomes.
38. The ending of Life is Beautiful.
39. Four-year-olds who really don't want to put their shoes on.
40. How awkward I feel 98% of the day and how strong the temptation is to just hide in my house and avoid all social interaction because then there will be a 98% chance that the pretty and popular ones won't laugh at me or pity me or talk to me at all and I can read all the time and float around in my mind, where everything is magical and kind and whirling around on clouds made out of dreams and summer wind and I can sink into my best me, who is relaxed and gentle and funny and open and not concerned and therefore able to be strong and bright and fantastic and full of loud snort-laughs.
Here, in no particular order, are the things that I can control.
1. My Netflix queue.
2. My candy hiding spot that Awkward Dad and the children still haven't found.
3. My attitude.
4. My words.
5. My openness to the 2% of me that doesn't want to hide away in safety, but wants to stride purposely on the battlefield of human interaction and just connect. With you.
I forgot one.
Not that anyone in her right mind would want to control
Babies in Bounce Houses.
