Until fairly recently I was a young, single, financially independent 20-something year old, whose typical workday would involve 12-14 hours at work, 1-2 hours in the gym, dinner or drinks with friends, frenzied towel folding and 6-8 hours of blissfully undisturbed sleep. I knew about kids in a blissful unconnected way - I passed by them in strollers in the sidewalks, in the swings of the kiddie park near the neighbourhood jogging path, in awkward pre-adolescent groups assembling outside of the movie theatre on a Saturday night. I had a niece and nephew with which I shared a properly aunt-like relationship - I showered them with age appropriate gifts and received an appropriate amount of affection in return. This, in retrospect, was a damn good life - there were spur of the moment overseas trips, clingy dresses that looked good from multiple angles, weekend nights that involved 5 a.m. bedtimes and 3 p.m. brunches...
And now? I live with my husband, a 13 year old girl and a 1.5 year old boy. There are spur of the moment teenage mood swings, dresses are often clingy not for the sake of exposing a slim waistline - but because the contents of a previously full diaper have been emptied on them, both weekend and weekday nights involve 6 a.m. wake up calls that come with diaper changes and an abundance of bodily fluids. Domestic bliss? Not so much...more like the sustained chaos of sudden parenthood... even without the bliss it is sure to be eventful.
