you know you're a...

I'm currently fighting hard against the urge to write a “you know you're a parent when” piece.

Still, some days, I desperately need confirmation that out there in the world there are others like me - the days of spelling things out to your partner, the anguished cries from the shower, plastic boat sails imbedded in feet, colorful ducks nipping at ankles, the moments of glancing through the entertainment section and thinking, “What am I not taking advantage of any of these cultural events?...Oh yeah...”

Please, the jobs I have - teacher, writer, mother - are isolating at best. Tell me: Are there more of us who linger in friends' living rooms when picking up our children from playdates, so that we can stare into the frames of the wedding pictures on the mantel, look at the couples in those pictures and imagine how they fell in love: his dimple and clear blue eyes, her soft shoulders and wide laugh, and wonder if they wonder, how they got here?