It’s Friday, people don’t have children.
The minute you have kids, your sense of time becomes warped.
You spend the first few hours in slow-motion awe, staring at your new child as they rise and fall on your chest, experiencing their first minutes in the real world. Then, you watch as the clock speeds by through an adrenaline fueled first diaper change, breast feeding session, swaddle struggle, family embraces, and nurse check-ups.
Before you even know what happened, you’re home with a crying, pooping, hungry monster. Due to sleep deprivation there is no longer a distinction between night and day, waking up multiple times a night is normal, coffee becomes water, and you begin to wonder if life will feel sane anymore. (Hint: It does…and it doesn’t.)
Eventually a new normal is established and life begins to make sense. But your sense of time is still warped. The minute your put your kid to sleep you feel like going to sleep yourself; 8pm is now considered late, and 10pm is past bedtime.
We went out to dinner recently, sans Isabel, and it was significantly past our normal dinner time of 6pm. In my warped-parent-mind, I figured the restaurant wouldn’t be too crowded, because who goes to dinner at 8:30?! Um, childless people (parents and non-parents) go to dinner at 8:30, that’s who. Mama was quick to point this out as we stood in line waiting, and I was quick to realize how old I felt.
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