From Boys and Bars to Babies and Bottles

"Last night, I was so drunk..." was the precursor to most of my stories. These tales of debauchery were always wildly entertaining (and embarrassing once I sobered up). In my single childless days, I had a propensity for being that crazy girl that made out with girls, danced on tables and had a bit too much too drink. I bit, scratched and clawed my way into the limelight. After all, who doesn't love a little attention and a few flashing cameras. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have fun.

But that was then and this is now. Now most of my stories start with some version of what L did. Last night was a rough night; L was teething and he was up three times. Yesterday L learned how to wave and waved frantically to himself in the mirror. Today I left L diaper free for five minutes and he enthusiastically poop painted his entire crib. I could proudly go on for hours.

And let me be honest for a second. This is where you must expect me to say how much I miss my days of immoral overindulgence. I DON'T. Nothing beats motherhood. Nothing beats the cry of joy and the smile on L's face when I walk through the door after a long torturous day of work. And certainly nothing beats his sloppy open mouthed wet kisses. As much fun as I had, NOTHING beats L. Not even boys, bars and witty banter!