I think about my life pre-baby and remember some good times with fondness; Late night restaurants, group hangouts, marathon tv shows, last minute road trips, organized cupboards, and most of all privacy. Privacy was amazing; Restroom, showers, dressing. All of these things seem like such a luxury to me now. And sometimes I miss it. We’ve tried to add pizzazz by incorporating some of those events into baby life. But let’s be honest here, it’s not the same. I’m not the same. Hubby’s not the same. Our house is not the same. How I used to describe myself is not the same. My life is a ponytail and leggings. I’d rather go to bed at 8 than watch a movie. My living room looks like a mini-daycare and I gave up organizing it over a year ago. I spend most of my free time reading articles about toddler life. I daydream about donating 80 percent of the contents of our house bc it’s become way too cluttered.
But I feel that we’ve slowly come to a place of acceptance. Instead of trying to re-create the moments we used to have, we’ve re-defined them. We no longer want to go to trendy restaurants, leaving frustrated because we didn’t have the kind of experience we envisioned. We still go to nice places with Little once in a while, but we go prepared. We take an iPad, make sure we feed him before-hand so we don’t stress while we’re eating, and try to get a booth to keep our ball of energy enclosed. And…it fulfills me. As cheesy as it sounds my heart melts when I look at that tiny face jumping up and down pushing the curls out of his face. The tiny face that made the two of us a family. We may not have the same experiences that we used to have. But why should it be the same? Same is boring. We don’t evolve by being the same. Sure I’d like to dry my hair without tiny hands pulling on the cord. But part of evolving is learning how to adjust to a changing environment.
And my environment is pretty darn great…tiny hands and all.