My days of being a full time badass are over. Now I’m a full time mom with no clue as to how I could’ve ever been so hasty. One day I was zipping past people on the freeway and the next I found myself using the blinker and waving thanks to the car that let me switch lanes. Kids will change ya, that’s for sure. And when I’m not eating silver cakes with my fingers, clapping for dinner, or
driving riding on Dylan’s toy car, I’m asking myself what happened. The new me is stumped that:
- I no longer want to participate in any risky recreation. Bungee jumping? Parachuting? There are enough YouTube videos to curb any desire I have to hang by a thread or fall from the sky, thank you very much.
- I can’t even sit through said YouTube videos, or any other footage of any other type of accident that ends with someone getting hurt. I’m a coward now, a very imaginative coward that fears if I see it, it will happen.
- Fast food doesn’t cut it. My drive-thru lifestyle has been replaced with a war against genetically modified produce, pesticides, and anything I can’t pronounce or spell.
- You wont hear me swearing on anyone’s life. My respect for life is so illogical and real that the words “I swear! I put it on so and so,” is met with a gasp and “don’t say that!” Uptight? Definitely.
- I used to avoid doctor visits like the plague. Now I want to make sure I don’t have the plague. Please tell me I’m healthy. I don’t have the plague, right? Awesome. I’ll be back again in six months just to make sure.
- I don’t care if it’s “just” a show/movie/book. I’m not reading about babies, kids, or anyone being kidnapped, murdered, tortured, or killed. There’s enough of that happening in real life. So unless the world is ready for sea levels to rise by 12 feet, I’ll opt out and keep my tears to myself.
Perhaps I’ll loosen up as Dylan grows and the paranoia will fade as quickly as my James Dean ways have. But for now, I walk the line.