I am convinced that having kids can be bad for your ego.  Any sense of self-dignity quickly diminishes when my daughter, Elle, suddenly announces, “Mommy, you smell funny.  I think Max may have pooped on you.”

Being a parent demands patience, tolerance and a willingness to suppress your ego.

Before I had kids, I like to think that I was somewhat poised. I had a decent job where I was able to manage things with some semblance of professionalism and "having it together."  Any decorum I possessed, however, went down the tubes the day Elle was born.

I remember being so frazzled in the hospital when putting on Elle’s diaper for the first time.  Yes, at work, I could manage complex projects, navigate problems to meaningful solutions, but the first time I put a diaper on my baby at the hospital, I literally put it on backwards and then spent what felt like forever with a crying newborn trying to figure out what I did wrong.  I’d like to blame it on the hormones, hours of labor before C-section, or all the painkillers, but fumbling with simple diaper flaps when my new daughter was less-than-a-day old made me realize how much I really didn’t "have it together" anymore.

It didn’t stop there. I feel like motherhood can be a constant state of ego-shrinking.

For instance, just last month, we took our kids out to a restaurant for dinner.   Not soon after sitting down in his highchair, Max, my 2 year old son, starts shrieking at the top of his lungs.  No apparent reason, no apparent purpose, just shrieking because he can; because he is 2.

Before I had kids, I’d look at the parents of those screaming children (admittedly, with disdain) and wonder, “How hard is it to keep your child from screeching?”

Well, now I understand that once a two-year old gets something in his head, he won’t shake it, especially when it involves the thrill of using his full lung-capacity.  So, I immediately take him out of the restaurant to reprimand him, and all the while others are looking at me with disdain and thinking, “How hard is it to keep your child from screeching?”

Or just the other day, my daughter and I were having lunch.  I would like to think that I am smarter than a four year old, but sometimes I am not so sure:

Me: Elle, you have to eat the crust of your sandwich.

Elle: I don’t want to.

Me: You’ve always eaten the crust of your sandwich.  Please eat it!

Elle: I don’t want to.

Me (trying a new line of reasoning): Mommy eats the crust…Daddy eats the crust…I don’t know ANYONE who doesn’t eat the crust!

Elle (puzzled at her mom’s comment): Well…you know ME, don’t you?

*Sigh*  My kids are wonderful, lovable, joy-providing and a real kick in my pants.  I’m looking forward to going to work tomorrow.  At least there, I sort of know what I’m doing!