This post is a bit of fun, people. Obviously I wouldn’t change my procreating ways for the world. My boys are my world and life is enriched, funnier and more fun because of those bambinos… But sometimes, sometimes I miss the more selfish, carefree pre-kid days I enjoyed and thought you guys might relate too.
- Life seemed simpler pre-kids. The enormity of responsibility like needing to get your kid to school on time, and the realisation that you have to actually adult now when you feel 16 up there *taps head, is a bit of a head f*** most days. Not enough to home school obvs.
- Back in the day, a hangover, illness or generally ‘can’t arsed with the day’ was remedied away with, ‘tomorrow’s the weekend’ or ‘I’ll just slope off to bed/the sofa after work and chill out until I feel better’ just doesn’t exist anymore. Not like it used to. Kids mean mouths to feed, stories to read and generally parenting duty however crap you feel. And you do feel crap a lot when they come along as children pick up bugs all the time and generously pass them on to you. All the time. Which means little time to recover in between clearing their sick up and your own. Good times.
- I miss sleep, that golden 7-8 hours of interrupted sleep. I hate myself for taking it for granted pre-kids. I also hate my grumpy self on little sleep too. It always makes me reach for food my body hates and sleep deprivation becomes this self-sabotaging cycle that can feel hard to break. My eldest kid didn’t sleep solo until he turned 6 as well so that was fun.
- I miss having the sole ownership and control of my phone/computer/TV remote. Yes it’s my fault for letting the blighters use my tech but until you’ve had kids and need to actually drive somewhere, eat in public or have a conversation with another human, you don’t realise how helpful an iPhone and Netflix Kids can be.
- I miss my child-free mates. Some have stuck around of course and I’m closer than ever with them, but many drifted off when I became a a baby bore in the early days and I don’t blame them. I’ve found myself again now my kids are a bit older and it was only really the first year that saw me living a life revolved around my baby’s bodily functions but sometimes those ties are cut and can’t be mended. I do miss not needing 2 months to arrange a night out with friends with kids though, too. Finding a Monday in 2021 is often what comes up when more than two of us try and schedule our diaries.
- I literally can’t remember not having to share food. I’m a generous girl but my youngest stuck his enter hand into my glass of water earlier today so he could cup it with his fingers and it nearly broke me. I just want to eat food leisurely like the olden days!
- A tidy house. I’m cleaning like it’s Groundhog Day here and I’d like my house to at least stay clean after a vacuum for more than an hour. The washing load is the worst, it feels like there are three more families living here, I’ve never met.
- Spontaneity. Just doing whatever the heck I like without having to plan a military operation to do it. It makes a late night run to Tesco Express feel like a mini break in Paris.
- Swearing. I was never a swearing sailor but ‘sugar’, ‘poo’ and ‘fiddlesticks’ literally make me want to punch myself in the face and use the F word with abandon.
- Uninterrupted conversation. The husband and I are often fighting above the constant interruptions to have an actual conversation. Most of the time, we give up and find ourselves too tired to return to it, when our kids finally sleep.
- Which leads me to silence. I stood in a queue in an empty bank today and breathed that silence in. My Mum was looking after my child in the car outside, a child who had been tantrumming for the previous 4 hours and felt like those five minutes waiting to cash a cheque were the equivalent to mediating for an hour.
- Not having a mumtum. I used to do 300 sit ups a day (I know, I’m laughing too) but 2 c-sections later, it’s #mumtumforever here. I can’t even achieve a flat tummy with two pairs of Spanx.
- Not worrying as much. I’m a born worrier but kids took my anxiety to stratospheric levels. I worry relentlessly about their well being, and mine, struggle with the inevitable guilt we parent feel as we juggle being a person and parent and I question whether I’m a good parent most days too. I’m questioning even writing this post but you know, soz kids, know you’ll understand.
- Getting up at any time I like on a weekend/holiday. My kids at 7 and 4 now so are starting to wake up and entertain themselves on a weekend, but it’s not yet consistent meaning wake up calls at 6 am still go down here and it’s painful.
- Hot tea. Last hot cup was enjoyed in 2010.
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