I have decided to join the ranks of my talented blogging idols and write a little bit about “The Changes,” less poetically known as the odd shit that starts happening when you become a parent. I could write about the obvious ones that have become eerily accurate cliches like 1) When you have kids you have less sex or 2) Having kids makes you keenly aware of how fast time slips by, BUT Id like to try something a little different and have you all confirm my worst fear… that Im the only one!
When I had kids…
…I stopped sleeping naked. I don’t have the luxury of fumbling in the dark while the fire alarm screams, desperately struggling to find something, ANYTHING to cover my nakedness in order to spare the neighbours the discomfort of viewing my indecently white bum. Nope! Now I have to fumble in the dark to save my babies. I need to spend those precious seconds jumping out of bed like I’ve been Kancho’ed by a small Japanese boy squealing at his good aim *, and RUN to scoop my girls before they are seared! Yup. I COULD sleep naked, but then I WOULD end up naked on the lawn, with the neighbours never again looking directly at me. So, I stopped sleeping naked. Safer for everyone.
… I found myself bitching about the state of change tables in restaurants and planning our culinary outtings around THEM. Steve and I used to organize our dinners out around the cocktail selections. If we felt like beer we’d trek out to Taylor’s Crossing in North Vancouver for some delish micro brew. If we wanted martini’s we head to Delilah’s (which I discovered, while I was searching for their website, has closed! Sigh!). If we just wanted something cold, tastey and within stumbling distance home we’d hit the Hop and Vine Pub (Which I’ve just discovered has changed from a local watering hole to a fancy ‘tap house’). But now? Now I plan were we are going based on how functional, clean and equitable the change tables and their locations are. My first requirement is that they actually HAVE a changing location. I am annoyed to no end when some skinny, perky, ‘helpful’ server who obviously has no kids says something about using the bathroom counter, which I usually discover is a mere 8sq inches. NOT helpful when my kid is 35 inches long! My second rquirement is that it is ‘clean’. Im not asking for spotless, squeaky clean… but I don’t want my kids to get any feices born diseases from it! and lastly (THIS is a big one) I want there to be a changetable with equal access for both myself and hubby. Why should I be the only one to deal with nasty disgusting stuff in the middle of dinner? Ah… good times.
…I started double checking that the doors ARE, in fact,locked before I go to bed. Over and over and over again. I probably check to make sure they are locked 6+ times before go to bed. We are talking, borderline OCD, kind of checking. I was never afraid of the axe wielding maniac before kids, but now I am SURE someone is going to break in and take one as a hostage. Really, the jokes on them… my kids are a handful… but yes, I obsessively check the locks at bedtime!
…I started making sure that my beer bottles are on the TOP shelf of the fridge, and at the VERY back. Why, you ask? Well, little hands are not attached to a body that is tall enough to reach that sacred part of the fridge. I know its just a matter of time, but for now, I cling to the cool, crisp, delicious beer haven in the back right hand corner of that top shelf!
…I stopped drinking delightfully hot coffee. This happened for two reasons, one deliberate, the other more of a cause and effect type thing. First of all, I stopped drinking piping hot coffee in the morning because I didn’t want my curious baby (now toddler) to crawl over, dump, and scald herself. So, I started ‘milking down’ my coffee, adding indecent quantities of milk to make sure it was luke warm and safe for spills. Later, I abandoned this step of the morning coffee ritual because I had a second baby, and I never manage to drink my coffee while it is still hot anymore. Now I brew, pour, read a book, change a diaper, reprimand, change a diaper, wrangle, wrestle, peek-a-boo, and theeeeeennnnn drink what has become my stone cold coffee. I’ve given up fighting this reality.. some days I even add ice cubes now, just for kicks!
I could go on. Sadly, I COULD go on. These are just some of the changes off the top of my head. Im sure If I gave it some thought I could regail you with other, more entertaining tales of my current state of patheticness. *ahem* I mean my current state of bliss, being the mother of two of the worlds most endearing souls!!
* Kimbo, that was JUST for you 
