Tonight my big girl, AK, was helping me cook dinner. She really enjoys cooking with me and when she’s not spreading raw eggs on the counter or flinging raw ground beef off the spoon, I enjoy it too.
While we were cooking, I said to her, “You know, maybe you could take some cooking lessons when you get a little older. You might like that.”
After a little bit of deep thought, she replied, “I know what college is for. You figure out something you like doing and what you want to be when you grow up and then you go to college to practice it. Sooooo…I guess when you went to college, you practiced being a mom.”
Hmmmm…let me think about that for a second…
1. I lived in a beautiful, huge sorority house (complete with LOTS of mauve decor) kept by two sweet maids and was served two meals a day in a dining room where we had a most lovable cook (props to my homeboy William and his famous Oprah’s Unfried Chicken) and some nice young men who would clear the table and do the dishes for us.
2. I stayed out until 4:00 a.m. about three nights a week drinking quarter beers at bars where the floors were so sticky it was like walking in marshmallow fluff. And I didn’t even care about the bottom of my styrofoam shoes. Umpteen quarter beers tend to make you unconcerned with your footwear.
3. I repeatedly ate Taco Bell bean burritos and Five Star Pizza in the middle of the night and didn’t do so much as one jumping jack (which, theoretically, I could still do back then without peeing my pants since my pelvic floor had yet to be destroyed by a human head) and managed to stay a size 2 with a totally flat stomach.
4. When the nights of beer drinking and burrito eating took their toll on me, I laid in my bed until around 1:00 p.m. at which time I limped to the tv room to stuff my face with Pokey Stix and watch Days of Our Lives, which I dutifully scheduled my classes around when possible. Boy, how things would have been different if we’d had TiVo back then.
5. I spent all my spare time with my very adorable future husband and we would watch tv, go out to eat, see movies, attend basketball games, hang out with our friends, go to concerts and drink even more beers ALL BY OURSELVES. ANY TIME WE WANTED.
Sooo…I’m pretty sure I did the exact opposite of practicing to be a mom during my college years because…
1. As a mom, I do not have a maid, cook or busboys. I AM the maid, cook and busboy.
2. As a mom, I can’t stay out until 4:00 a.m. so much as once a YEAR without feeling like I might die a slow and painful death when I have to sit outside a five year old’s jazz class nursing a hangover. And I show much more discretion with my footwear.
3. As a mom, I can’t even eat pizza or burritos during the DAY without seeing it immediately on the back of my 35 year old thighs and that’s putting in four days a week at the gym (but it doesn’t always stop me). Thankfully, Spanx were invented in the interim. And also boob high jeans went out of style. Those freaking things didn’t look good on me when I DIDN’T have a baby pooch. Can you imagine?!! Ugh.
4. When I’ve been up late at night for any reason, be it a rare night out, a barfy kid or plain old insomnia, when the clock strikes 7:00 am, my cute little hair bow adorned alarm clocks are banging down the door. They don’t give a crap about those last couple Goldschlagger shots in the wee morning hours (just kidding…does Goldschlagger even exist anymore?) And I don’t have the slightest clue what’s going on in Salem in this century. Is Stefano back from the dead again? Are Bo and Hope back together? At this point in my life, I schedule my activities around 1:00 because it is the magic relief of nap time. And God help the ass clown that rings my doorbell during those golden hours.
5. And of course, as a mother, my still very adorable husband and I have approximately no time alone. Our days of being two carefree kids are long gone.
We do, however, have two beautiful and precious little girls who wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for those nasty bars, quarter beers and awesome adventures.
But I sure as hell wasn’t practicing to be their mother. Not even a little bit.
But that can be our little secret.