then and now

I’m feeling a little nostalgic. Last year at this time I was eagerly counting down the days until the arrival of Miss Elspeth and wondering what the future had in store. Well, the future is now, as they say. Here’s a snapshot:

Babies come with luggage, not baggage…
Then: Our living room had a fairly straightforward arrangement. Chairs, a TV, a lamp, a bookshelf or two–simple, functional, nothing fancy.
Now: It looks like a Toys R Us exploded. There’s a sippy cup in the middle of the floor, and I’m pretty sure it’s been there for three days. There’s this behemoth of a thing we call the Pack n’ Play sitting in one corner, although the name is misleading… it implies that baby might play in it. It should actually be called Baby’s Favorite Torture Device, because that’s what you’d think we were doing when we put her in it.

Handling someone else’s excrement is…
Then: Not happening.
Now: Any diaper that doesn’t require a new outfit or a bath on the part of either changee or changer is a good diaper, no matter how stinky.

The soft spot is…
Then: Eurghh. *shudder*
Now: I admit, I’m still squicked out by the soft spot. If you’re not familiar, it’s that part of the baby’s skull that hasn’t yet fused, leaving an opening covered by skin. If you happen to press on it (I wish you wouldn’t) it’s like pressing into warm Silly Putty… if that Silly Putty were made of your baby’s brains.

On the pacifier…
Then: Hadn’t said the word “binky” more than a handful of times in my life. Probably didn’t know what “binky” meant. Didn’t care.
Now: I say it a handful of times each day, usually preceded by “Where is the damn…” or “What the hell happened to the….” Binkies, like cat toys, have this nasty habit of disappearing to hold secret binky meetings under the furniture.

Laundry–I’m…
Then: Always drowning in it, but there’s hope!
Now: Always drowning in it, and there’s no hope in sight.  Considering nudism.

On sleep (or a lack thereof)…
Then: 6 a.m. is an ungodly hour. No self-respecting lover of sleep should be subjected to it.
Now: “It’s 6:15 a.m.? She let us sleep in! Wait, is she alive? Yes? WOOHOO!”

Alarm clocks are…
Then: A necessity if I want to get to work before 8.
Now: Still necessary, but we got a new one. This particular model totally ignores all user programming, is loud, insistent, and I’ve yet to find the snooze button.

When someone tells you that having a kid will change your life… take heed. Listen to them and listen well. Now, where is that damn binky…