Before my name was Mom, I never had to worry that I would pee a little bit every time I would sneeze.
I would rarely have a day that required three Starbucks runs before dinner.
I didn't watch a television show that involved a 6-year-old explorer, a brother and sister bunny duo or a DJ that hangs out with trippy-looking animal/alien characters.
Before my name was Mom, I never had to think twice about whether or not there might be poo somewhere on my clothing.
I didn't tip 40% when I went out to eat to make up for the wasted sugar packets, broken crayons and torn napkins left at the table.
The thought of eight hours of sleeps didn't feel as unlikely as scaling Mt. Everest.
I never had to worry about the size of hot dogs, carrots or grapes.
Before my name was Mom, I never had milk leak out of my boobs.
I didn't skip pages in a book to get to the end quicker.
I didn't consider glitter a nemesis.
I never had to leave Target humiliated because the person I was with had a full-blown meltdown in the beauty department.
I only had to do laundry once a week.
Before my name was Mom, I didn't creepily stare at someone for hours while they slept.
I would laugh if someone tried to give me a necklace made out of macaroni.
I never had to scrape suspicious booger-looking objects of of various places in my home.
I didn't have conversations about the color/size/frequency of poop.
I didn't lie awake and wonder if I was doing a good enough job.
Before my name was Mom, I never knew how good it feels to hear the words "look what I made for you Mommy."
I was never amazed at the miracle that is life.
Before my name was Mom, I had no idea how capable I really am.
I never experienced my heart bursting with joy.
Before my name was Mom, I didn't know just how much I could truly love.
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