How My Party Girl Past Prepared Me For Motherhood

To say that I enjoyed my youthful single years would be putting it mildly. Not that I was totally out of control, but I certainly knew how to have a good time. You might think that a night out has nothing to do with raising a child, but you would be so incredibly wrong. All of the ways that my past as a “party girl” has made me way more prepared for motherhood that I would have been otherwise are as follows…

It’s 2 am and someone is barfing. It happens and it’s no biggie. I know how to clean it up quickly and I can get that smell out of anything. (Vinegar and baking soda for the smell, cat litter to clean it up on carpet, coffee grounds to clean it up on hard surfaces, y’all.)

Cold leftovers are king. I have learned to love cold pizza, Chinese, whatever the hell we had last night, almost more than hot food. Good thing, because who has the time to eat their food while it’s still hot?

Speaking of food, mealtime is often at 3 am. And a certain someone often passes out in the middle of eating this 3 am meal. Rookie.

We’re trying to get in the car and someone is crying and missing a shoe. Nothing to see here. Offer a treat to shut the crying up, find the shoe and toss it in the back seat, and hit the road. I look in the back and the same someone is squirming around and crying again and ohmygosh please be quiet for five more minutes we’re almost there. Finally he passes out and is quiet until we get home.

I have to carry this person everywhere that we go. Whatever. As long as we get where we’re going without anyone having a meltdown.

Being an overly exhausted mom is actually remarkably similar to being hungover. Thankfully, I discovered the no-fail hangover cure years ago, (glass of orange juice, two multi vitamins, two ibuprofen, large cup of coffee, large glass of water, preferably sparkling) and I am fully capable of dragging my throbbing head ass out of bed and starting the day.

Whoops! Someone peed their pants! No problem because I was prepared. Strip off the top layer of bed sheets (and the waterproof cover because I’ve been through this shit before and I am NOT doing laundry in the middle of the night again) revealing the clean, dry ones underneath and everyone goes back to bed.

I like the cheap wine. Good luck buying diapers and that $40 bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. The $10 bottle will work. Don’t lie. You can’t taste the difference and it gets the job done.

Kid’s toys are way too loud and the music sucks. Much like any bar after 10 pm.

Someone is having a meltdown and we have to leave early. Oh well. The outing was fun while it lasted. Homeward we go, possibly stopping for a snack along the way.

I know that the comfortable shoes always trump the cute ones. My patience is infinitely better when my feet aren’t killing me.

Sleeping on the floor, couch, in a chair, etc happens. Whatever. I gotta get that sleep where I can and I’m so tired that it doesn’t really matter to me anyways.

They say that kids are like little drunk adults and they aren’t lying. Luckily, their pukes are a lot smaller and they’re a lot easier to carry home when they pass out early. What’s your favorite “tiny drunk adult” story? Share in the comments!

Xoxo,

The Crispy Mama

 

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