As a mother of more than one, you learn to cook dinner with one arm, nurse the baby that is cradled in the other arm at the same time, and shield him from any potential hot oil splashes with your exposed belly.
You learn to hold the baby in one arm, shower one child with the other arm, while encouraging (through clenched teeth, but calmly, if barely) the one on the potty to hurry up.
You learn to maneuver those bulky shopping carts that has a toy car attached up front making it impossible for you to see what is in front of you. You have to, once you've run over your own child who was dragging her feet right at your blind spot, or knock over a display or two (or three or four).
You learn that a child can fit herself into a shopping cart in thirty seven different ways, thirty two of which are one way only. You also learn to ignore the onlookers curious glances while extracting the child.
You learn that no matter how you cook it, a broccoli is a broccoli is a broccoli. And it is not finding its way into your children's mouth.
You learn the many shades of whine of a child, none of which are pleasant.
You also learn the various brightness of laughter, all of which make life so much better.
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