06/04/2013 03:43 EDT | Updated 08/04/2013 05:12 EDT

Proof I'm a Parent

A recent tweet caused me to reflectively ponder my parenting skills (or lack thereof), and to ask myself: What evidence is there to prove my adequacy for this profound responsibility we call parenting?

True. I know I am a dedicated mother and parent to our four vivacious children. True-er. I can attest to the fact that I am plugging away, doing the best that I can at any given moment. Giving my heart and soul. Bleeding myself dry. Placing myself on the altar of sacrifice...blah, blah, blah. But passed all that gobbledy-gook. How much have I actually "parented" lately? And what evidence of such is there to show for my efforts?

So here they are. Ten evidences that I have actually "parented" in the last 24 descending order.

10) Although I picked two daughters up late for birthday party #1 (I am used to seeing the cellphone out and panicked looks on my children's faces) and then dropped eldest daughter off at the wrong entrance for birthday party #2 (causing her to miss one hour and 15 minutes of said party and thus scoring a slice of pizza the size of a garlic finger. My bad...). I did remember to retrieve both girls and bring them home at the end of the day. (Dirty looks abounded...)

9) Although I was responsible for eldest daughter not getting supper at said b-day bash, I did dodge the mosquitoes and frigid island June weather to buy milkshakes all around from the local dairy bar, The Dairy Royale. (...and I'm back in. They love me, they really do.)

8) Although I remembered the edible art supplies for my daughter's Language Arts landscape project made from common grocery items (think: mouldy bread covered in jam, then sprinkled with hardened brown sugar rocks better suited for a construction site project...or the trash can), I sadly forgot to plan an essential trip to the local Foodland grocery store for the main ingredients: Teddy Grahams and Fish Crackers. (While this project is costing an arm and a leg, I am making headway on my cluttered kitchen cupboards...)

7) Due to eaves-dropping on a convo between two colleagues regarding a shopping trip one was to make to the corner grocery store, I managed to pass off my grocery list to one sweetheart who offered to pick up the finishing touches for said project so that my daughter could eek out a passing mark from this expensive make-work project.

6) But, because of a planned road trip on which everyone was hungry and we had not a second of time to stop for a burger, I gave the afore-mentioned groceries to my children to eat en route. Which they proceeded to devour with concerning ferocity. And maybe I might have eaten a little too. (So long!, art project. So long!, passing marks...)

5) And since I am awesome at smoothing things over, I promised Daughter of the Art Genius that I would get those blasted art supplies even if that meant I would leave at school recess to go purchase the necessities...all while pleading with said Daughter to state my case to her lovely teacher (Rehearse with me, now: "Busy weekend, no time, stressed to the max" And again...)

4) So. Didn't have time to go to the store over the weekend. Running late in the morning. Spilled coffee on capris. Went around for the first part of the morning with two major wet patches on either side of crotch, all while dodging co-workers in the hallways. Only to meet daughter's teacher in the hallway anyway. Panicked. Told her I ate the homework. Might have really peed my pants.

3) Made an emergency trip during class back to Foodland. Bought the groceries while breezing through Cash 1. Pretended it was my day off. Roundtrip: exactly 4.37 minutes.

2)Then had a brainwave of creativity. Saw broccoli on sale. Thought it might be useful. Purchased a pretty sad looking pair of stocks. Hoped daughter might think in terms of environmental restoration and use them as filler.

1) Dropped off the bag to Daughter's Classroom, only to have teacher ask, "What's the broccoli for? Am I suppose to look after this until the end of the day?" At which point I realized she thought I had also bought our family's supper side dish. And yes, this would be a plausible theory. So, we did indeed end up eating the broccoli a stir-fry. After which point my daughter asked, "Was that the broccoli from my ART Project?

And so I say. Here's the proof. I parented much, baby.

And what's more, I've got the broccoli to prove it.