hillbilly mothering

You might be a hillbilly mama if…

you drive a four wheeler, barefoot, off into the sunset, while your husband follows in the truck–which is bright red, with a bypassed muffler

the only way you can get the baby to stop crying is by letting her crawl around on the floor eating dropped Cheerios

you have cats on the porch, dogs in the garage, and ducks and chicks in the basement

your side mirror merrily swings alongside your car held only by tape and a prayer

you routinely hang clothes on the line, barefoot, with a baby on your hip

your toddler says, “I have to go potty”, and unabashedly squats in the grass. No matter where you are.

you call going to get the mail “a walk”

your child thinks “shopping” is Goodwill and garage sales

you’ve ever received a note from your husband containing the words “manure” and “love you”

you’re actually related to someone who won a hog calling contest

you’re teaching your toddler to get out the door fast, before any flies can come in

your husband wonders when the toddler will be old enough to teach her how to shoot

you’ve ever had to take the flyswatter away from the baby (hey, at least I took it away, huh?)

you’re still mad that the thieves who broke into your car seven years ago stole your “Best of Country Sings the Best of Disney” CD, but are too cheap to replace it

you hit a deer on your honeymoon

Your toddler thinks “My bologna has a first name…” and the Gilligan’s Island theme are lullabies.

You have to go through the bathroom to go upstairs, and hence are regularly inviting guests to follow you into the bathroom, garnering many odd looks and much hesitatancy.

You tell people to put on their shoes before they go down into your basement.
You don’t even know you’re hillbilly until someone points it out!
These are all totally true from my life, incidentally. That’s about all I can think of for now…do you have any to add?