An Open Letter to the Me Before Kids

Dear Me Before Kids:

Yes, you’re going to be a Mommy. Yes, you’re going have adorable, messy-faced little boys bulldozing through your house while your chubby-faced baby girl sleeps and your sweet husband races home to join the chaos.

But beneath the surface sparkle of Marriage And Kids will be a million little moments, and these are the things that will define you.

So get ready, because there will soon come a day when:

— The frequency of your baby’s bowel movements will be a critical topic of conversation. “Did he poop yet?” your husband will ask via cell phone. “NO!” you’ll say with genuine, email-the-pediatrician, concern. Of course, two ounces of prune juice later and, oh, will he poop.

— The purchase of a new dishwasher will be mountains more exciting to you than the purchase of a new pair of shoes (like you’ll wear anything besides flats, anyway).

— You’ll say words like “tushie” and “potty” in public. And you won’t be the least bit insecure about it. Actually, until just now you actually forgot those words were kind of weird.

— You won’t be able to eat a fruit salad without thinking of that stupid Wiggles song. In fact, about two years from now, you’ll have that song in your head at least once a week.

— Magazines with headlines like “Conquer Picky Eaters!” will be way more appealing (and more useful) than those promising “His G-Spot Revealed!”

— You’ll have entire days where you don’t look in the mirror. And when you do, there will be spit-up on your shirt. Of course, you won’t change your clothes after noticing said spit-up because whatever you put on next will just get more spit-up on it, so why bother?

— You won’t want to do anything that gets you home later than 10 p.m. And when you get home — even if it was a “date night” — you’ll go straight to sleep.

— It will only take one glass of wine to get you completely buzzed. And the whole time you’re drinking it, you’ll wonder whether it’ll get into your breastmilk.

— At least once (probably somewhere around the terrible twos) your child will make you feel like a horrible parent. You’re not a horrible parent. Even if you did just scream at him to “Stop screaming!”

— You’ll spend $75 on a babysitter just so you can see a movie.

— Your daily sanity will depend upon whether or not your kids take a nap.

— You’ll find yourself holding your baby close to you at 4 in the morning, crying because you’ve suddenly realized you have never loved anything more.

Good luck, Me Before Kids!


–Me After Kids

crazy family
This is me after kids.

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