People (parents) often wax lyrical about all the things they used to do pre-kids that they can’t do any more, either because it’s just not worth the pain (boozing/hangovers) or because it’s just not worth the pain (far flung holidays/toddlers on a motherf**king plane)
In an effort to swing the balance back in our favour, I was trying to think of things I did NOT like doing before I had a kid that I like doing now. Note I am being very positive about all these things, because I know you know that we know they aren’t really all that fun. Sigh.
Being The Designated Driver
Yes, I know I can’t drive yet and have failed 5 tests and counting but I WILL pass VERY soon and then I shall relish being the designated driver. I shall laugh gently at the hungover ones. I will skip in a merry and non-green manner to the park where I will not have a pounding headache and a very real desire to vault the fence and dive under the 103 to Romford. I am sure I would not have liked being the designated driver in my pre-baby days.
I was never much a fan of swimming before (except on nice holidays) Chlorine, wet cozzies and skanky changing room floors never really did it for me. Now however I get to thrash around with an octopus disguised as a five year old determined to drown himself in the freezing big pool before vacating to the baby pool where I get to sit in baby wee. Wait, that doesn’t sound fun – why is it fun? Well he really enjoys it and it makes him marginally more tired of an evening. Straws here people.
They are brilliant. You arrive and your kid immediately disappears into a feral pack of children who spend their days marauding up and down the campsite chasing a ball/each other/someone’s misbegotten hound of indeterminate breed. Occasionally they return for a plaster and some orange squash, but the rest of the time you get to sit in a deckchair with a lukewarm cider and a feeling of well being at being well left alone. Winning! I used to hate the idea of a holiday camp holiday but now I’m the first one packed and in the car.
Cups of Tea
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m British and have always enjoyed a good cup of tea. Especially when I used to have a job that I loathed to my very marrow. I figured spending 5 minutes a pop making a cup of tea and drinking at least 12 a day whiled away a good hour total. Now though, now that the years of making endless cups only to happen upon them an hour later all cold and scummy are essentially over, the joy of a nice hot cup of tea and a snuggle on the sofa is renewed. Especially when the biscuits that I’ve hidden haven’t been sniffed out by the men in my life and scoffed, and I actually get to dunk a couple (digestives, if you’re interested)
I’ll be honest here (ahem) but I am SUCH a liar. I fib all the time. “I forgot” is usually my untruth of choice (though to be fair, I DO forget a lot of things, it’s not my fault it’s my wonky thyroid and blogger brain fog). This aside, I never enjoyed lying. Now however, not only can it be great fun, it can also be really useful! Yes Rian, that plane IS going to Stanstead (I don’t know where the fuck it’s going and I don’t care) Be good, Father Christmas is watching you now! (See also: Go to bed, Eat your dinner, Do your homework – Autumn/Winter is the time of all the Father Christmas lies. YES he can see all you children! He has ELVES! I can TEXT HIM!!!)
Urgh, there’s nothing worse is there? Leaning in for that first (second, third if you are desperate) kiss with someone only to discover that – horror – your mouths aren’t a match and there’s slobbering going on. YUCK. Your kids however, nothing better. That first wild-eyed, open mouthed lunge your baby makes towards your face, usually landing on your chin and sliding off to faceplant your boobs. You know what it is though – kisses! Best kisses ever!!
I’ll freely admit that most of these are me totally clutching at straws. Have you got any better ones, things that sucked pre-kids but that now kick arse?