My husband has a favorite memory from our dating days: After I answered the door in a skintight minidress and heels ... bada bing, bada boom. We were an hour late to the party.
Since having two kids, we’re late to stuff all the time, but not for fun reasons. We're late because of things like lost shoes and lost minds.
I think we all understand intellectually that parenthood will change us, but we can't even imagine just how much. All I know is that one day I was a fit, sexy, confident professional, and now I’m a sentimental fool with unwashed hair and a closet full of sweatpants.
I feel so different since becoming a mom that my life before kids seems like it happened to someone else. My photo albums are like artifacts of another person’s story. Who is the carefree girl in the bikini kissing a dolphin? Where did she go?
It doesn’t matter if I get my body back, go back to work or even run off to Bali for a kid-free adventure. I will never be that carefree girl again because I will always be thinking about those two little people I love obsessively and worry about constantly, even when they’re big.
My husband misses the minidress girl, and I’m not saying she won’t make an appearance again. She might. But there are parts of me that feel changed forever, big and small.
Here are just a few of the ways I am so different since becoming a mom:
I wear flip-flops to restaurants now.
I own a dutch oven, a slow cooker, a standing mixer and a food processor—and I know how to use them.
All of my old clutch purses could fit inside one of my giant mommy carry-alls.
When I’m at the doctor’s office, I reach for "Good Housekeeping" instead of "Cosmopolitan" because the only G-spot I need help with is the grease stain on my couch.
I will skip my skincare routine to get an extra five minutes of sleep.
I can’t read or watch anything that involves a child in jeopardy. Even “Home Alone” is too much for me.
Seeing a baby born, even on a sitcom, makes me weep uncontrollably.
I’m extremely aware of germs.
My favorite type of sex is the quickie.
Two glasses of wine and I’m drunk.
I barely read, and when I do, it’s usually a non-fiction manual for parenting a spirited child.
All of my old clutch purses could fit inside one of my giant Mommy carry-alls.
I didn’t quite give up swearing, but I never use the words "fat," "ugly" or "stupid."
Against my will, I’ve become a morning person.
I make myself do cardio because I want to live forever.
I don’t have patience for bullshit.
I’d rather watch a favorite movie I’ve seen 50 times than waste precious free time on something I’m not sure about.
I feel guilty if I don’t recycle.
“To your health” used to seem like the most boring toast ever. Now I get it.
I feel connected to all other mothers, even the aggravating ones.
I worry incessantly.
My heart is full, bursting and overflowing with love.
How do you feel different after becoming a mom?