Before I was a mom, I stayed up late and slept in on the weekends. Now I still stay up late and am up early every day.
Before I was a mom, I did one load of laundry a week. Now I do about six.
Before I was a mom, a party consisted of friends, beer, music and snacks. Now a party requires weeks of planning, a theme, decorations, and goodie bags.
Before I was a mom, any clutter lying around was my own. Now I look at all the toys and kids flotsam and wonder if adults even live here.
Before I was a mom, I worried about getting concert tickets to rock shows. Now I worry about getting tickets for Disney on Ice.
Before I was a mom, I was compulsively punctual. Now “on time” means at least 15 minutes late.
Before I was a mom, “dinner out” included wine and candles. Now it includes kids meals and cheap toys.
Before I was a mom, I thought I had it all figured out. Now I know I never will.
So many changes, and on paper they all sound like I'm giving up a lot. What these changes don't reflect is the fact that my heart has grown exponentially, I have learned the virtue of patience, and a hug from chubby little arms beats a dance with a cute guy in a bar any day.
Before I was a mom, I never knew how strong love could be. Now I know the “I would jump in front of a speeding bus to save you” power of it.
