(Not the) Same As It Ever Was

Have you ever paused at a point in your life and wondered, Talking Heads-style*, "how did I get here?"

I'm having a lot of these moments lately.

The other day, my doorbell rang. It was a UPS driver delivering the gigantic "clear-the-sidewalk-and-make-way-I'm-coming-through" double stroller (with optional stand-on or ride-on toddler seat!) my mother-in-law bought for us. Disassembled and in the box, the thing was over six feet long and heavier than my two-year-old. The spectacle I am going to create pushing that thing around the neighborhood or through a store with my brood of "three under three" strapped in is almost laughable. If 10 years ago you had asked me for a visual of my life at 32, This.Would.Not.Have.Been.It.

Recently, I pulled into my driveway after having ran some errands sans kiddo and diaper bag. Having been granted the luxury of not having to negotiate walking to my side door while corralling a toddler and juggling packages, I had a moment to pause and look at my toy-strewn lawn, complete with ride-on toys, push lawn mower, kiddie rakes and shovels, beach balls, and the big plastic play gym I swore I'd never own. I've always known I wanted kids so it's not as if I expected to have a Martha Stewart lawn all the time, but for whatever reason, I never imagined my backyard would resemble that of a daycare facility. Apparently in my parenthood fantasy world, children neatly and willingly picked up after themselves immediately after they were done playing with their toys.

And then, of course, there's the inside of my house. At 1,500 square feet and with Isabella's toys seemingly occupying 1,400 of those, there are very few signs of my former design style. Instead, it appears as if Melissa and Doug and Fisher-Price have done an extreme home makeover.

That said, there are innumerable things about my life that are pleasantly (instead of shockingly) surprising.

Whereas I used to define a good day as one that began with a Caramel Macchiato, and was punctuated by a good office gossip session, lunch on the company expense account, an hour-long run after work, and a night of reality tv, a spontaneous hug or kiss from my toddler can now make my day, (or at least the first half of my morning).

I never thought I'd actually enjoy kiddie lit. The hubs, who used to be an elementary school teacher, has always loved it and would try and engage me in conversation about my favorite children's books. I would invariably try and change the subject. Now, though, I have definite favorites amongst Isabella's many books.

And I never thought I'd be one to get such a thrill experiencing the world through a child's eyes. Silly and sickeningly sweet as it may sound, there's just something magical about watching Isabella laugh hysterically after sticking both her hands in a puddle or gazing at her wide-eyed excitement over visiting a park or museum for the first time. And the fall, my most favorite season of them all, is packed with opportunities to relive my childhood through her.

How did I get here indeed.

*The Talking Heads are getting their fair share of play in the blogosphere lately. Check out Damselfly's funny tribute here.

9 Responses to “(Not the) Same As It Ever Was”

  1. # Anonymous Kris

    I have to admit- I let Brody ruin a brand new pair of tennis shoes last week because he was having so much fun jumping in the puddles. The laughter was contagious!

    I have the Graco DuoTour stroller, and I both love it and hate it... Matt and I both agree that *if* there is a number 3, that it won't be until Brody is big enough to walk everywhere. 3 under 3 makes you officially my hero! =)  

  2. # Blogger Joanne

    I loved the fisher-price extreme home makeover LOL. I love your blog I pop in via my BFF Mel  

  3. # Anonymous Lis Garrett

    Toys have a reproductive cycle of their own and will multiply like rabbits when left unattended for the afternoon. I don't understand it, and I don't like it; it's something I've just come to expect and tolerate. (sigh)

    I have a lot of those Talking Heads moments, too . . .  

  4. # Blogger Tracey

    Darn straight. I wouldn't give up the popsicle stained couch and beat up walls for anything...  

  5. # Blogger Marie

    Sweet ride, Kristi!

    I spent an hour organizing & sorting toys yesterday. It was strangely therapeutic! But as soon as the neighbor kids come over everything will be everywhere again, so I don't know why I bother!

    There are so many sweet moments with kids... yours will be multiplying!  

  6. # Blogger My Wombinations

    hehe:) You know I feel the same way (see today's post). Yes, having children is full of beautiful moments, but it is also hard, hard, had. I try to remember that in 25 years, they will hate me no matter what I do, so I have to try to keep something for myself, something that is just mine.  

  7. # Blogger Pregnantly Plump

    I never imagined I would spend half an hour at the allergists once a week chasing Little Elvis around the waiting room chairs! And I never would have imagined that the folks in the waiting room, and the receptionists would enjoy our visits as much as they seem to! (I realize they might be good actors, but I like to think they enjoy his spirit and energy.)  

  8. # Blogger Damselfly

    Same as it ever was ... same as it ever was ... Hee hee! But not.

    I love the "Instead, it appears as if Melissa and Doug and Fisher-Price have done an extreme home makeover." Hahahaha! I can totally relate. There are toys in every single room of my house. And Fly's train set now takes up almost half of my dining table.

    Glad you got a stroller!  

  9. # Blogger Jesser

    Yea. That's exactly why I fought so hard against a minivan. I really don't hate them that much, I just wasn't ready for one before I turned 30. But the rewards are pretty sweet. And not just because everything is covered in sticky.  

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