The Evolution of a Mother

When I got married I drove a cute, two door Pontiac Grand Am. (Patrick drove a Ford Mustang, in case you care. He still thinks he needs one . . . he's in denial.) Now I drive a Chevy Traverse (which rocks by the way) and my husband not so lovingly calls it the SUVan. Whatever! I will never drive a mini-van. (No offense is meant by that statement. Mini-vans are awesome!)

When we bought our house we had a completely empty bedroom, a guest room, and workout room/office. Now we have a playroom, a guest room/workout room/future baby's room, and a three year old boy's bedroom.

In our first few years of marriage we went to San Francisco a couple times, skiing in Tahoe, to Kauai, Hawaii, South Padre Island, and anywhere else we wanted. We ate when we wanted, shopped when we wanted, and stayed up as late as we wanted (Why would anyone in their right mind get up at 6:30 if they don't have to? Oh yeah, news flash, three year olds are not in their right minds). We used to avoid hotels with lots of "noisy" kids. Now we search them out. The more pee in the pool, the better (you can laugh . . . that was a joke). But in case you didn't know "kid friendly" is code for lots of pee in the pool. I'm just letting you know in advance. Don't worry they use tons of chlorine at "kid friendly" hotels. It's set my eyes on fire more than once.

So what's the point of all this? Am I whining? Actually, no. But as I was leaving Sam's today, with a cart full of food, and a three year old by the hand, it occurred to me how much my life has changed since I got married almost 8 years ago. I used to take a day off of work for myself every so often and save the rest. Now I'm lucky if I make it to May with any sick days left. I've spent so much time in the pediatrician's office in the last 3.5 years that we should have our own room. They could call it the Davis Suite. Sounds good doesn't it?

Our lives are now dictated by nap times, bed times, lunch times, gymnastics classes, swimming lessons . . . you get the picture. My idea of a fun night is to take a hot bath without Andrew bustin' in on me and to get in bed by ten p.m. Try to contain your jealousy. You only wish your life were so exciting.

But as crazy as it all seems, I don't miss my pre-child life (at least not on most days). The other day, I was driving, alone shockingly enough, and Darius Rucker's song "It Won't Be Like This for Long" came on the radio. And as I'm listening to it, I realized that Andrew is almost four. Four! Years! Old! Tears. And then I realized that I'll be 30 in a few days. Thirty! Flood of tears (again I'm joking . . . sort of). And then I realized, that time really does fly by. And it is such a terrifying honor to be a parent, and watch a child grow into an adult.

I'm not the same person I was 8 years ago. I have the wrinkles, bags, spider veins, and a few pounds to prove it. But my life is more blessed, more complete, and more meaningful on it's worst days than it ever was before.