Tuesday, April 27


I never thought that I'd have children - ever. But as it turns out I did. Now I find myself having the most inane conversations about subjects that are really of no interest to anyone other than myself. While I love my kids, which the fact that that the word 'kid' is plural freaks me out, sometimes I miss the little things that I use to not even have to consider:
  • I miss not having spit stains on all my clothes.
  • I miss not smelling like regurgitated breast milk.
  • I miss being able to leave the house in under an hour and not having to carry everything I own with me "just in case."
  • I really miss the portion of my brain that has decided to take maternity leave as well.
  • I wish that every conversation that I have with my three-year-old didn't remind me of an acid flash-back: "I did have my balloon float away with my robot kitchen, but he was going to see his mommy daddy and the fish that lives up there, so I did say bye to him, but then the little big kid was mad at me." I mean really, who can follow along with that story and not feel slightly fucked up?
  • I wish that I still didn't have to wear maternity pants.
  • I know that I should look on the bright side of this last one... I guess I'm too important to not be available at all times to everyone in the house. But what I wish most of all is that I could take a shit with the door closed.