You are awake at 3 am, feeling woozy, attending to a whining roommate barfing in the toilet because she drank something mysterious. Except this time around it was a week-old bottle found under the couch rolling around with the dust bunnies, and your roommate is your child.
You chug drinks in two seconds flat. At three in the afternoon. Just now, its mommy's little helper, and you have to schedule your glass of Pinot Grigio around breastfeeding, nap time, soccer practice, and daycare pickup.
You make whoopie in the closet, garage, or wherever you can hide and can strip down faster than you can say s-e-x. But now you just wish a rubber band or sock on the door handle made sense to your toddler who runs in asking where his Elmo doll went.
Ramen is a staple food. Mostly cause it is the quickest meal you can make without toddler meltdown, explosive baby part he, and a child demanding you find their shoes. Now. Seriously, its your only hope at a rare warm meal, if you can call it a meal.
You pull all nighters. Except studying for finals was way easier than attending to sick children or kids who decide it is time to dance to the Wiggles at midnight.
Pajama pants are a fashion statement. Why get dressed?
You flash your boobs a lot and strangers have seen your hoo-ha. Except you don't get beads and beer this time around, just a satisfied baby and hopefully a good pregnancy or Pap smear report from the OB.
There are things that you don't comprehend, making you feel stupid. Instead of Hegelian philosophy, its your toddler screaming something unintelligible as you run around offering a diaper change, cookie, juice, ball, kisses, Tylenol, and a train.
Coffee is your best friend. Still is.
You wake up, roll over, and ask, did I sleep with you last night? Because the little ones might have their own bedroom but mommy and daddy's bed is so much better.