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9. Ninety percent of being a mom involves making snacks, packing snacks, going to the store to buy new snacks, unpacking snacks, researching snacks and asking mothers about their snacks, cleaning up after snacks, and preparing snacks for the next day so you don’t have to pack more f*cking snacks in the morning.
8. Pooping alone is a luxury – like a five star cruise line that set sail the day you had children.
When pre-kid, “privacy” was a right, you will now be made to feel negligent for wanting to poo without a little person swinging in the hammock of your undies, saying, “Weeeee a panty swing!” And don’t even think about locking the door because that is just the permission they need to set fire to the futon or shave the cat’s head. So just go with it. Literally.
7. You will never have a weekend where you sleep until fully rested, lying in bed pondering, “Whatever shall I do with my day?” Your day has been decided for you, before your head even hit the pillow the night before. At 6:30 am on a Saturday, your child, with whom you you can’t pull out of bed with a pliers and a cattle prod on a school day will straddle you, screaming, “Why are you still sleeping?!” As if you were piloting a plane, not drooling on a pillow. Sleep? How can you sleep at a time like this? Think of the passengers!
6. When you have time alone, you won’t know what to do with yourself. You will stand there frozen like in a deer in the headlights of pure silent bliss. “It’s my time, my time,” you tell yourself! Anything is possible. You could poop alone, read that book you started a year ago, go for a run. Anything! You could do anything! Carefully, after weighing all your freedoms, you….
sweep the kitchen floor, do a load of laundry, research ballet classes and soccer leagues and realize it’s already time to start dinner.
5. For at least ten years you will watch shows about dogs and cats who talk with creepy computer animated lips, and people dressed as aliens dancing alongside celebrity guests. And you will have actual philosophical conversations with friends about these shows like you used to discuss documentaries and foreign films. You’ll even start to have romantic feelings towards The Wiggles or Wild Kratts brothers, wondering which one you would sleep with, if push came to shove, if PBS became HBO on a desert island and you were forced to reproduce because the fate of the world depended on it, or at least the fate of Public Television.
4. School is not like it was when you were a kid. There’s a new annoying movement called “Parent Involvement,” which our parents blissfully escaped. The Parent Involvement Movement means you will receive 20 forms a night from the PTA, Green Council, and Booster Club about walkathons, book clubs, science fairs, and fundraisers where parents are encouraged, or rather coerced into selling wrapping paper and frozen cookie dough that you would never in a million years subject upon your loved ones. So you forge the forms with fictitious names like Gam Gam and Opa from the Wisconsin Dells, and Aunt Bunny and Uncle Rufus from Tennessee and then write a fat check covering all your doppelgangers. After a while, you will recycle all forms without even reading them. And this works for a few weeks, until the school catches on, and they start requiring everything to be returned with signature. Damn they’re good. So just as you’re about to write a letter to the Green Council saying that if they stopped producing waste maybe there would be no need for them, you think better of it, have a glass of wine, watch a reality show about Mormons with 12 wives and decide you just don’t give a shit anymore.
3. You will be tired all the time. Not tired in the way you stayed up all night studying for midterms or finals. Not tired in that you worked a full day and want to put your feet up and rest. But tired in the way that you would kill the Dalai Lama for a nap. You would seriously assassinate a puppy for twenty minutes of shuteye.
2. Everyday you’ll think,“Do I have to keep feeding everyone?” Cheese and crackers were considered a meal when single. Now the five food groups have to be present at every meal or the Healthy Eating Club (another brochure you threw away), will show up at your door with more paperwork to fill out about how you can better encourage healthy eating habits. So you make the broccoli and fruit, the whole grains, proteins, and dairy. You feel like a fabulous mother until dinner and your kid says, “Can I just have cheese and crackers?”
1. Your child will choose friends whose parents are incredibly weird and you’ll have playdates with said parents who are into Dungeons & Dragons and have purple suede curtains and wizard figurines riding unicorns on display inside glass-windowed bookshelves, and your sarcastic self will have to stifle that witty inner monologue so your child doesn’t repeat it to their child, thus ruining a friendship and a possible connection to the next Mark Zuckerberg, who could one day be your son-in-law. So you sit on the gargoyle shaped couch and agree that just like parental bliss, you too once believed in unicorns.