A Note to Pre-Baby Me

Sometimes, I wish I were you. Yes, you.  Over there.  My younger, pre-child self.  The one not covered in spilled apple juice, hot chocolate, or dish soap. The one not still in glasses and pajamas at 1 in the afternoon. The one who didn't have to stop yet another fight between her son and daughter over who should move further down the couch, who touched who, who should clean up the mess, or who farted without apologizing.

I'm talking to you, who didn't have to search for a pair of "non-holey, non-painty" jeans for the 7-year-old 15 minutes before bedtime because he refused to get into his pajamas until the last possible minute. Nor did you have to watch the 5-year-old's daredevil dance performance where she unexpectedly catapults herself off the couch to narrowly miss all the pointy toys strewn all over the floor.

You didn't have to take the stove apart and fish around the corner underneath where the mouse lived last year before the cat killed it for the Bakugan brawler that rolled under there -- you know, the brawler your little weeping boy had his heart set on bringing to school for Show & Tell that day.

No one knocked furiously on your door the last time you went to the bathroom only to let you know they could hear you pee.

Today, I want to switch places with you so I can do my hair without interruption and put on make up that other people will see. I want to wear nice fashionable clothes and impractical footwear.

For a little while, I want to leave behind the messy house and messy kids. I want to have mature conversations with people who don't have to be reminded that a sentence with "bum" as every second word isn't really that funny. I want to eat lunch with people who will eat what is put in front of them, mop up their own spills, and get their own drinks.
I want to go somewhere where I get paid to use my brain just so I'm reminded that I have one.

For just a few minutes, I want to be independent and stylish. I want to leave it all behind and be you again.

But only for a moment, because when the moment's gone, I'll immediately wish I were me again. I'll miss the little hugs and kisses that fuel me and give me all the love and appreciation I need.

You have so much that I wish I still had.  But I also have something you don't have -- even with all the chaos, noise, and mess, I have the two little people who make me smile even on my darkest days, who mean more to me than life itself, who make my heart swell by just saying "I love you, Mama".  I have my babies.

Don't worry.  One day, you'll be me.

This is an original Canada Moms Blog post by NenetteAM who also writes about her favourite people, places, and things at Life Candy, tweets at @NenetteAM, and is right now having another "Calgon, take me away" moment because her kids are fighting... again.