Um…THAT girl is dead. She died the day I saw the plus sign on a stick [twice].


Actually my test. And no, I don’t still have it, this is from Facebook. ๐Ÿ˜‰

The other day my husband and I were discussing the plans for Easter. Usually, we have it at our house and we do all of the cooking but this year everyone decided that they wanted to barbecue at a local park. Which sounds like a lot of fun and there is a huge playground for the kids to play on while we grill but it kind of throws me off of my planning game because when it is here I always know what I need to do and I make a binder of shopping lists, event schedules, and recipes that I am not entirely familiar with and may need to reference in a pinch. I am unbelievably organized when it comes to family holidays. I have even actually been stopped in the supermarket with my handy dandy binder and been told people were jealous of my organizational skills.

Why, thank you, it’s really just my control freak nature, so don’t be too jealous. It’s more of a curse, really.

This year, everyone wanted to switch things up but no one is really telling me what they want, when it is, what’s on the menu…ect. It’s making my little control freak heart batty. I can’t make lists, I can’t do my binder, I can’t get the shopping done. People don’t realize (since they never actually do anything for the holidays but show up and eat and open gifts) how much work and preparation I put into this. I have half a mind to let it crash and burn so they all come back and appreciate me (Mwahahahahaha {that’s my evil villain laugh}) but alas, I’m too much of an organizer to handle that. So I started bothering my husband about details and he asked me a question that made me laugh at first and then really sit down and contemplate how funny it actually was.

Me: So what is plan here? I need to make lists and get the shopping done. I can’t stand when everything is so last minute.

Chris: I don’t know. Call my sister.

Me: You guys wanted to change it up. You call your sister!

Chris: What happened to the girl that used to tell me, ‘Relax, don’t stress out about everything. We’ll figure it out as we go’?

I stopped dead in my tracks. What? Me? I said that? Oh yeah…now I remember. I said that years ago when we didn’t have a child. What happened to that girl? Uh, she’s dead. She died a looooooooong time ago, my dude. That girl was happy-go-lucky and flew by the seat of her pants, yes, and she could do that because the only person that she truly had to worry about was herself.

Oh, that girl is long dead. The plus sign on a stick killed her.

I started to think about it. Because it is funny, really, to think of who you used to be before you were a parent. Yes, I used to say things like, “We’ll figure it out as we go”. Now I have a color coded binder. How hilariously ironic. Now I am a planner, an organizer, and a person that takes personal pride in my domestic abilities. I used to be a free spirited girl that let the wind blow me where it blew me in the world. I believed in fate and destiny and I didn’t put a ton of thought into events. Or anything, really.

The old me would look at the Mom me and probably fall over dead from shock.

And in turn, I can’t imagine living like the old me now. I would die if I partook now of some of single me antics…literally. The smell of whiskey now makes me sick to my stomach, much less taking shots of it until the bar closed. Another time (I couldn’t make this up if I tried), we hopped in my car in Florida and went to Kentucky at eleven o’clock at night. Why? Because a friend kept telling us how awesome a place it was and we finally just got in the car to go and see it for ourselves.

By the way…not that great. But hey, anything for an adventure, right?

Single me was a no-holds-barred fun seeker with a wild streak a mile wide. Single me made awesomely terrible decisions that always seemed great at the time. Are we really going to quote that girl now? Trust me, flying by the seat of your pants does not work in parenting or event planning. Neither of those things mattered to me when that quote came flying out of my mouth. Little did I know it would come back to haunt me many years and 15 levels up in maturity later.

Though I have to say that the old me really knew how to live and have fun and that paved the way for Mom me to never have a regret and feel comfortable at home raising a family. There are no “what ifs” in my world. I have been there, done that, and gotten the T-shirt. Now I am perfectly happy to stay home with my beautiful family and my wildly anal retentive binder.

The only pant’s seat flying I do these days is a trip to the park…with a bag packed for the next apocalypse. And that is just the way that I like it.

Musings Parenting


Amber Perea View All →

I'm just living minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day.

13 Comments Leave a comment

    • oh, I guarantee there are times that Chris misses the “old me”. But that girl didn’t pack his lunch or lay out his work clothes or just overall make his life easier. So…give and take. ๐Ÿ™‚

  1. Hahaha – I know all about the bag packed for the apocolypse! We have a “Contingency Bag” we keep in the car at all times. It’s loaded – extra diapers, extra cups, extra clothes, cars, mini-magna-doodle, batteries, crayons, snacks, lolly-pops – you name it, it’s stuffed in that backpack. It’s saved my life a time or two for sure!

  2. My hubby was that guy. Now when he wants to change things last minute I let him get everything ready, so he k OSS how hard it is with two infants to pack up for. By the end of the packing, he’s grumbling a out how much work it all is, just to go out of town or run errands! I sit back and smile!

  3. I don’t know. I don’t think there is any going back to “that girl” having been this woman. I don’t think that’s a bad thing though. I’m a spinster so I never had an issue with a stick sucking out whatever girl I was and I never did really get the hang of most of the single behaviour described but I would hate to be the person I was even a year ago all over again. You can’t go back. You can laugh your posterior off at why though and I think having described so well the things that make your return impossible (was it really the stick? I vote for the water gun hydration method and about 30 things more plausible than a plasitic stick, Many people recover from a positve pregnancy test ;p

    • Oh, it was the stick! I looked at myself and thought, “What kind of mother would I be if I don’t change some things about myself?”

      I didn’t like the answer.

      For me, being a Mom was such a big deal that changing some of my more, say, immature qualities was a “gimme”. Being a parent that my child could look up to meant putting away childish things. It was an easy call for me. Though who knows? Maybe when he is grown I will go back to flying by the seat of my pants…you never know! ๐Ÿ˜‰

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