Being a mother has been the greatest gift of my life. I know how incredibly lucky I am to get to call myself a mother. It is an honour that I will never take for granted. But there are some things that motherhood has straight up ruined for me and I know I’m not the only one.
RIP my boobs.
WATCHING ANY CRIME SHOW
I have seen every episode of Law and Order: SVU. Mariska Hargitay is my kween. Ice-T is a highly underrated actor, don’t @ me. I’m pretty sure I could solve any real SVU case in under a week. But the latest season of one of my all-time favourite shows is sitting completely untouched on my PVR because, since having a baby, I now see her in every fake victim. How do real people have children and do real jobs? Like, cops have kids. Doctors who treat sick children have their own kids. Social workers have kids. These people are my heroes…along with Mariska Hargitay. Dun dun. Womp womp.
By ‘fine’ I mean ‘fit to be in public.’ I now shovel food in my mouth like I’m on an episode of Survivor and just won a steak dinner after eating rice for a month. I have 24/7 indigestion from eating food like my meal is being timed for a qualifying spot on an Olympic team, but the person holding the stopwatch is my baby who is sleeping and could ‘go off’ at any moment.
Ladies, amirite? It comes back, but pregnancy, breastfeeding, and being exhausted 24/7 really takes a toll on the old libido.
Even if you lose the ‘baby weight,’ a term I loathe as much as my new love handles, everything has shifted and realigned itself. This isn’t necessarily bad, it’s just different and this difference almost always guarantees that your pre-pregnancy go-to outfit that always made you feel strong and powerful and sexy now turns you into Jabba the Hutt when you used to be Princess Leia.
Whether it’s a movie or TV show or book, ‘mom brain’ really means that you’re always tired and constantly worrying about keeping a tiny human alive while your hormones are still moving around like the contents of a lava lamp. Trying to follow anything with a plot more complicated than Keeping Up with The Kardashians is a true mental feat. Even that can be a bit much. Why do all their names have to start with ‘K’?
Or anything that easily wrinkles. Or is tight. Or is loose. Or stains easily. Or is made of fabric. Clothes in general have become more difficult.
New parents live and die by their baby’s nap schedule, which is a moving target. It’s easy to think your friends that just had a baby have turned into jerks overnight because they can’t give you a firm RSVP for your event, but really, they’re trying to gauge whether it works with their child’s nap schedule. Trust me, you don’t want us at your party anyways if our baby hasn’t slept all day.
STAYING UP LATE
I used to have cute knick-knacks and photos on display in my home. Now they live in a box in my closet and sing about their sad and useless existence like Chip and Mrs. Potts in Beauty and The Beast. Paint colours are chosen by what will hide hand prints, furniture that is past its prime is kept because new items will be puked on, and anything pointy, sharp, heavy, delicate, and expensive is out. Even cute dish towels with foul language and retro pictures are just ladders hanging from the oven handle that will lead to my child injuring herself. And I love foul language!
BEING ON TIME
Arriving early now means more time that you must entertain a baby in a new environment that is not their safe home with toys and a crib and a changing table. Arriving late means you miss dinner/socializing/an airplane. Sure, you could be on time with your child, but you could also win the lottery. Both are equally likely.
NOT BEING SWEATY
I’ve always been a bit of a sweaty Betty, but now thanks to those fun and wacky hormones, the constant carrying of a child, the putting in and taking out of a car seat, the lifting of a stroller, the lugging of a diaper bag, and being in a constant state of doubt and fear, ‘sweaty’ become my new state of being.