Yesterday afternoon I stood in the sweltering heat at a reunion. It wasn’t a high school reunion or a college reunion. Instead it was a reunion of my old office workers. For 4 hours, I chatted to old coworkers, perused through photo albums, and transported myself back to my old life.
My old life? I can barely remember a life pre-kids. 14 years ago my days consisted of work, eating, sleeping, hanging with my husband, socializing with my co-workers and friends, and work.
Now my life is a whirlwind of kids and schedules and calendars and car pools and field trips and volunteering and chaperoning and fitting work around all of these activities. At the reunion I was the pre-kid me.
The post-kid me wishes that the pre-kid me could visit for a few hours and tell the post-kid me how to keep on going. The post-kid me needs a jumpstart most days. I have a recollection that the pre-kid me would jump out of bed after the alarm went off. The post-kid me is so sleep deprived that she cannot hear the alarm. The post-kid me needs a sharp poke in the ribs by her husband to get moving most days.
The post-kid me is tired. The pre-kid me thought she was tired. The pre-kid me had no idea what being tired was all about. The pre-kid me could take a nap anytime except while driving to work and while at work. The post-kid me steals a catnap every now and then.
You can guarantee when the post-kid me catnaps the phone will ring a hundred times. Ditto the doorbell. FedEx will need me to sign for a package. And the kids…you can guarantee that the kids will either need me to answer a question with a great deal of urgency OR one will have a problem with the other while the third tries to adjudicate. Naps happen rarely.
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