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24 Things I Could Do Before I Had Kids

I had a make over the other night with some of my girl friends.

Sitting in the chair at the salon, the hair stylist noted that my hair style is “cute.”  She said, “Do you always wear it so…..flippy?”  Why yes I do, I thought flippy was in.  Is it not?? She said, “It’s OK, we can tone it down a bit with the straightening iron.”  She proceeded to straighten the crap out of my hair and make it smoke (literally).  When she was done, she said, “There.  Now you don’t look so much like a mom!”

I moved over to the make up chair and this woman was not as diplomatic.  She said, “I’m going to have to do something about your brows.”

“Oh yeah,” I replied.  “I keep meaning to get those done.”

“Yes, you should.  Soon,” she sighed heavily. “I’ll do what I can.  In the meantime, let’s draw attention to your eye shadow so the brows don’t stand out so much.”  I told her to break out a new bottle of concealer, because I was gonna need it.  She chuckled, but didn’t argue with me.

As I sat there in the chair having all my wrinkled badges of motherhood covered up with flesh colored putty, I started making a mental list in my head of all the things I used to do before I had kids.  Things like waxing my eyebrows (and my bikini area), wearing more than one color of eye shadow and picking clothes without first checking the tag to make sure it was washable and preferably no ironing required.

Here’s the list I came up with and I’m sure you can add to it:

1.  Go on a trip with nothing but an overnight bag.  Now I need a suitcase full of nothing but lovies, bedtime books, Shout wipes, wet wipes, anti-bacterial wipes (yes, I keep the wipes business going single handedly), coloring books, markers, games, snacks, First Aid kit, and extra batteries.  That doesn’t even include the additional suitcase I need if we’re going to stay somewhere with a pool or near the beach!

2.  Laugh (or sneeze) without the fear of wetting my pants.

3.  Go to the bathroom alone.  I’ve started locking the door, but I think it’s more annoying to have them pounding on the door while I’m trying to get my business done.  So I shout, “I’m pooping and it’s gonna get real stinky here in a minute.  You’d better move along!”  It seems to work for now.

4.  Have sex on the kitchen floor.  Actually, I never did this before I had kids, because the floor just seemed so cold and hard.  But now I definitely can’t do it because it’s still cold and hard…and sticky…and covered in crumbs.

5.  Sleep in.

6.  Decide at 10 PM at night to go get ice cream, go to the bar with the girls, go to Mexico, or anything spontaneous.  Even going grocery shopping at 10 PM has to be planned out.

7.  Spend $150 on my hair.  Maybe this is why I hate my hair now.  What do I expect when I go to Great Clips and I color my hair myself?

8.  Spend $150 on anything for myself.

9.  Read.  I used to read all the time.  I still do, only now I read Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Pinkalicious.

10.  Spend an entire day on the couch watching rated “R” movies.

11.  Drive by McDonald’s without thinking I wonder what the Happy Meal toy is right now.

12.  Wear heels.  I was never one to wear very high heels, but something happened after my children were born that I have absolutely no tolerance for anything higher than a flat.  I have a couple of wedge heels that I can manage for an hour or two.  I really don’t even like tie shoes anymore either.  After I’m done tying the kids’ shoes the last thing I want to do is tie another pair.  I seriously look for slip on shoes as often as possible.

13.  Swear.  A lot.  I still swear and my mother would say it’s a lot, but now when I drop something on my toe instead of yelling, “Mother f%$#r!”  I have to say, “Mmmmmm….fuh……ohhhh…owie, owie, owie!!”

14.  Roll my eyes at the mom with dried egg in her hair, one leaking boob soaking through her filthy sweatshirt, wearing men’s pajama bottoms and slippers limping behind an over flowing shopping cart full of processed food while towing three screaming kids under the age of 5.  Now I just give her the look that says, “Hang in there, sister.  Bedtime is coming and there’s a bottle of wine with your name on it.”

15.  Buy furniture and carpet that isn’t stain treated.  I’ve bought two new couches since I’ve had children.  One is dark tan and one is brown.  What does that tell you?  The days of white couches are behind me.

16.  Walk around my house in bare feet without the fear of stepping on Legos, Barbie and/or Monster High doll shoes, Squinkies (they don’t hurt, but they scare the crap out of me, because I think they’re big squishy bugs), Mighty Beans, Go Go Crazy Bones, Hex Bugs, or Littlest Pet Shop figures.  Not to mention grapes, raisins, Cheerios, apple peels, or puddles of milk.  (Interestingly enough I’ve never stepped on a Cheeto, apparently my kids hang on to those better or take the hit and eat it off the floor anyway.)

17.  Invest solely in Sharpie markers.  Now if it doesn’t say “washable” it doesn’t come in the door.

18.  Read anything about dying children.

19.  Eat a hot meal.  By the time I’m done making sure the kids have what they need, cutting up their food into manageable pieces, blowing on anything that is too hot, arguing about why they must eat what’s in front of them, and blowing again, because it’s still too hot, my food is ice cold.

21.  Talk to the Hubs about movies, current events or anything that doesn’t relate to our kids.  Now we just say things like, “Did Gomer poop today?  He’s been constipated lately.” or “I need thirty bucks.  Adolpha’s feet grew again.”

22.  Drive a two-seater.  Now we drive practical cars, because we’re practical people.

23.  Never used my sleeve to wipe a child’s runny nose.  Now I’m so immune to snot, I’ll wipe a stranger’s child’s nose just out of habit.

24.  Hold a new baby without getting a little teary eyed and kind of wishing for another one (before the Hubs smacks me upside the head and reminds me that I think I’m sleep-deprived now).

Be sure to read my daily rants at People I Want to Punch in the Throat where you’re sure to laugh and/or might be offended (it’s where you can find my R-rated rants).

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Photo: morgueFile

 

 

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