I was recently visiting a friend’s house for a play-date. I was impressed by the fact that about one-third of the main floor of her spacious home had been converted to Romper Room. The adult furniture had been replaced with kids’ plastic furniture, the slick hardwood floor was covered in brightly-coloured, interlocking play-mats, and the mats were strewn with toys – permanently.
I was impressed that my friend had made the leap – no apologies – to a life and a household with kids. It got me – a new mom of one – thinking that I may be attempting to salvage some semblance of my former life. For one, the adult furniture remains intact. For two, the hardwood floors remain unscratched, and there is hope that they will stay this way. For three, I try to keep the house tidy, which is proving harder to do by the day.
Then I started thinking – are there other remnants of my former life that I’m still clinging to, as well? There’s the fact that my husband and I still go out to restaurants for dinner, nine-month-old baby in tow. We have refused to give up this indulgence, despite the fussing, ruining of tables with spoons, and most recently, bouts of shrieking just for fun.
But things are changing. For one, we no longer get invited to certain childless friends’ posh homes. For two, we scarf down our meals. (You never know when baby will need attention.) For three, after managing to avoid all addictive vices my entire adult life, coffee is my new BFF.
My house has not yet turned into one giant playroom, but I suspect it’s not far off. And while I miss certain aspects of my former life – impromptu dates with my husband, putting my feet up in the evening, sleeping through the night – having my son in my life is completely worth it – without a doubt.