And, Who Has The Time?

I actually just sat here and stared at the blank page.  Because, it has been eighteen months since I had my little man.  A year and a half.  I was so filled with ideas, bursting at the seams, ready to tackle the world and prove that I could make my own rules.

Well, I have.  But not in the way I thought.

I envisioned taking little man out, taking over the world.  Still being able to focus on myself and be the best mom in the world.

Little did I know, he would teach me the new rules.

The dishes...will pile up.  But, he helps unload the dishwasher. Which terrifies and tickles me simultaneously!

The dog's water bowl will double as a scoopable water filled mess.  So, now I know what kind of water toys to get for Summer!

Showers are still special, but no longer the fifteen minute hot sanctuary they once were.  Fast, efficient.  And sometimes, especially in the winter, you skip shaving your legs.

No longer a night person.  Unless you sleep on the floor next to the crib instead of taking the baby to bed with you.  And the morning really is the best time to have a cup of coffee, do some yoga, dance.  If he doesn't wake up early.

Money matters.  Because I can't get enough of plaid shorts and hats.  Which don't always stay on his head.

And, time is precious.  Play is better than anything else you could be doing.  Who has the time to worry, be angry, or take things for granted when you see that smiling face or hold him when he has a fever?

My favorite thing he has taught me?

You can be happy.  Giggle. Live your dreams.

All while being a mom.

My Favorite Thing

I've always thought that people who say they love being pregnant are off their rocker. Who could possibly be happy about no caffeine, or a big ol' yummy Subway...or even a glass of wine? Not to mention having to buy new clothes as your waistline slowly disappears. Or expands even bigger. and how about the nauseousness that has the misnomer of "morning sickness"? (I suppose it's morning somewhere in the world at any time.)
Ew.
Don't get me wrong. I liked being pregnant. But not for the reasons that most people probably did.
My favorite thing?
People were incredibly nice to me. In a time when people communicate mostly through technology (how many texts have you've gotten today?), you've got to be worried that one day, we won't know how to speak with one another face to face. Even today, road rage seeps it's way into what I like to call line rage. Let's face it. When you need to buy something, you usually have to stand in a line. Yet, every single time we get surprised that we have to wait in line and there aren't magical cashiers that pop up when we are ready to skedaddle. Then, the line rage takes over. Trust me, I see it every time my husband goes grocery shopping or we step in to Target.
But I digress...
Strangers weren't merely nice...they were happy for me (not counting those breastfeeding questions. I'm attempting to block those out of my mind.). They asked what I was having, when I was due (which was fine, until the lil man decided he wanted to bake longer than his timer said), if I had a name picked out (a few, but we were keeping them to ourselves...mostly), and if he was our first. All with smiles, congratulations, and wishes of luck.
Hmmm....this may just mean we still can talk to each other face to face. With a smile on our faces. Now, how can we get this to work during the Holidays. Or when my husband is waiting in line...