9 Things I Gave Up to Be a Wife and Mother
Written by Mom Babble's Jennifer
Lots of women will tell you—eagerly—about the things they gave up to become a wife and mother. The list usually begins with their career, and then moves down the List of Unhappiness into things like freedom, financial independence, and a sense of identity.
Let’s face facts. It’s true: you give up a lot when you move into this stage of life. But it’s not always such a bad thing.
Here are some of the things I gave up when I became a wife and mother.
- Kisses. I give them up on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. They fly off my mouth and onto my kids and my husband like they’re offended by my breath. So long, little kisses. I hope you’re happy in your new home.
- The covers. I didn’t give these up so much as they were stolen from me. I swear, my husband tucks himself in under the blanket, and then grabs hold of the edges and rolls until he’s wrapped in a cocoon, leaving me shivering and glued to his side searching for his escaping body heat.
- Quiet. My house is a concert of beautiful, discordant noises, which I refuse to take for granted.
- Free time. I used to be able to spend Saturday mornings sleeping in and then lazing on the sofa until noon, but now? My weekends are booked with baseball games and birthday parties and laundry. (So. Much. Laundry.) I’ve really taken a step up in the world.
- Moments. I give these up all the time. Whenever my daughter chooses to sit next to me on the sofa, or my son dissolves into giggles while I tickle him, or when my husband squeezes my hand in solidarity. Sayonara, moments. You’re no longer mine alone; I have to share you now.
- Modesty. I don’t bother to send my kids out of the room while I change, and I don’t care if they hear me pee. Modesty is overrated anyway.
- Style. Who has the time (or the money) to keep up with the Kardashians? Not me, that’s for sure. But it’s funny: not a single one of my friends has complained that I didn’t buy the newest Louis Vuitton bag, or mentioned it when I showed up to a Girls’ Night Out in last year’s wedge heels. Imagine that.
- The last bite of dessert. I guess this is why they call chocolate “bittersweet.”
- My heart. With every stolen kiss, stolen moment, and stolen bite of cheesecake, my heart belongs more to them than it does to me.
So I guess I’ve given up quite a bit to be the person I am today, with the family that I have right now. But you know what?
I’m okay with it.