I have heard it said before that having a baby changes everything. I knew this was true when I found myself incredibly grateful to be able to sleep in until 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning. Pre-parent me would have died a little inside if someone had told her that there would come a day when she would view a 7 a.m. wake-up call or an unaccompanied trip to Target as major things to look forward to, but three years of parenthood does strange, awful things to our psyches.
Much like war.
We even start to miss some of the household chores we did before we spawned, surely a sign that we’re more foregone than we thought. Right now, if given the choice between mopping my kitchen floor without my three-year-old’s “help” and going to the spa, I’d choose the mop. I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Join me as I…
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