Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Don't Look Back

Our family recently attended a barbecue that lasted from 5 p.m. until 11 p.m. 
The invite list was split down the middle.  
Half the guests were married with children and half were either single or married without kids. 
Naturally those of us toting toddlers arrived on the early side, with the latecomers showing up a few hours into the party.  Presumably these were the people hanging out until last call.  The rest of us, I can assure you, were well into our REM cycles when the last beers were opened.

Sometime around 7 p.m. the childless guests made their entrance.  
As they glided through the French doors and out onto the patio I couldn't help but notice how young, vibrant, and refreshed they appeared.  
The girls with their high heels and perfect makeup.  The guys with a look of confidence that beamed, "Yeah, I'm going home with her tonight, the one showing off a perfect rack in her halter sundress."
For those in the childless category, the "with child" partygoers served as the ultimate birth control. 
Our kids were running rampant and had somehow managed to infect the chip & dip bowl with their drool-infused fingers.  They were more or less the equivalent of zoo animals on steroids.   
The childless couples and carefree singles observed the mayhem before them, undoubtedly making a mental note of the situation and silently vowing to never have kids.  
The truth is that Doug and I were once those people.  
And while I would never trade my life for anyone else's, there are times when I reflect fondly on the days when I could attend a barbecue without having to chase a curious toddler around the backyard. 
The revelation that it would be YEARS before I could once again act like my old self at a party hit me like a ton of bricks. And then it all came crashing down... I'm a MOTHER.  I will never be my old self again! 
This is how you know there's no turning back: 
* You covet your maternity clothes more than your regular clothes... Because let's face it, you haven't been on a real shopping spree since your second trimester and, despite the fact that your favorite jeans have an elastic waistband, they're still the coolest thing in your closet.
* Your engagement ring is lackluster.  Oh yeah, remember that precious gem on your finger? The one you used to ogle in elevators? The one that you scrubbed every day with a toothbrush? Now it's caked with peanut butter, sunscreen, and soap scum.  And chances are, there's a speck or two of poop nestled in there somewhere.
* You can't seem to fill out your lingerie.  Remember when you were so engorged that your boobs had enough power to run a car wash? Now they resemble deflated beach balls that no one wants to play with. 
* You're a hot mama.  Not like MILF hot.  More like stick your head in the freezer hot.  Because between pregnancy, labor, and delivery your hormones somehow manage to turn you into a sweltering and sweaty mess for the rest of your life.  Want to have some fun at your next party? Invite a bunch of moms and watch the cat fight that unfolds as they jockey for the spot closest to the air conditioning vent.  
* You used to be able to hang out with a group of girlfriends and talk about the last book you read, the most recent movie you saw, your favorite reality show, or Kim Kardashian's butt.  Now the chatter centers around preschool tuition, bath time rituals, and which parks offer the largest shaded areas.  *There's always room for Kim Kardashian's butt.*
* You once were able to boast about your latest promotion at work. Now your claim to fame involves surviving a botched epidural, several hours of pushing, and an emergency C-section.
* You develop a love/hate relationship with the FedEx guy.  He's delivering your diapers, so you've got to love him, right? But he rings the doorbell at nap time which is a major party foul.  You ask him to stop the whole ring and run routine and he obliges, but then he leaves a box of diapers behind the wheel of your car and you run it over.  
* You can't leave the grocery store without opening the following before reaching the register: a bag of string cheese, a snack size bowl of Cheerios, a container of fresh fruit.
* Your makeup bag has been whittled down to the bare essentials: cover up, cover up, and more cover up.
* You entertain the thought of Baby # 2 and all you can think about is: more weight gain, more laundry, more money, and more crying (from you AND the new baby).
So mommies... Don't look back.  Embrace the new you.  And the next time you feel like you've lost every ounce of your old self try this: swipe on some lipstick, even if you have nowhere to go but the grocery store.  I promise it will lift your spirits and remind you that the girl you once knew is still there.  She's just covered in dried oatmeal and spilled milk.  


  1. Ok seriously cracking up over this one! I've got to forward on to my sister -- you are HILARIOUS, you adorable hot mama!
    --- Lanna Bear :)

  2. I wish someone would of said this to me. Now my girls are 15 & 19. LOVED IT!