I once was a woman who kept up with her home. Clean dishes, folded laundry, organized cabinets and a well-made bed.
Now dishes are piled high as if the sink is just a storage bin. Our laundry sits in the baskets so long, it wrinkles to the point that I have to wash it all over again. My bed looks like a teenage boy resides here (no offense!). If I make the bed on Saturdays, it is a luxury.
I once was a woman who equated a good time with going out. Friday nights at home were lame. Dinner dates never began before 7 p.m. and always ended with drinks and maybe even dancing somewhere with friends.
Now Fridays consist of heels off, sweatpants on, take-out ordered -- and if we are lucky, we last past 9:30 p.m.
I once was a woman who made a fuss over presentation. My home decor changed on the spot with the season. Even the simplest of get-togethers included well-thought-out themed menus, down to matching disposable plastic ware.
Now I consider myself extra festive with my new spring flag in the front yard. It was fall harvest themed about two weeks ago.
I once was a woman who found time for me. I made salon appointments for the latest ombre hairstyle, booked a manicure, did a little shopping (or a lot of shopping) and always seemed to run out of time on weekends getting to do what I wanted to do.
Now I consider it a good day if my hair is not high atop my head in a messy bun, if both legs are shaved (yes, I have in a hurry forgotten to shave a leg) -- and, my goodness, I felt like I went to the spa when I took some time to clip my nails and pluck my eyebrows.
This is what motherhood did to me. Motherhood turned me into someone else. Someone who, on most days, I don't recognize. Motherhood took the former me and shook her up a bit. Rocked the ground on which she once stood.
Motherhood made me a messy-house-dwelling, pizza-eating homebody who would trade getting all dolled up and a night out on the town for sweatpants and a movie, holding her baby.
You see, before motherhood, the woman I once was cared about things. But that is just what they were: things. Everything that defined the woman I once was centered around perceptions. I don't feel like she was a selfish woman. She just didn't know any different or better.
Motherhood gave me the ability to live more simply and love more deeply. It allowed me to put things into perspective and see what is important. Motherhood said, "Your dishes can wait, but your baby will grow if you don't slow down and live in the moment." Motherhood made me appreciate what I had and not what I wanted.
This is what motherhood did to me... and I kind of like it.
This post originally appeared on backwardsnhighheels.com.
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