The letters B.C. mean something different to me than they do to most people.
To me, they stand for Before Crazies.
Don't get me wrong...I love the Crazies with all of my heart, but here a little glimpse of life B.C.
B.C. most of my weekends were spent hanging out with friends, working on the house, or traveling.
B.C. my time was my own. I could shop, sleep, and work out without having to think about naps, meals, or poop.
B.C. I slept in on the weekends.
B.C. I never rushed my showers (unless we had to be somewhere and then the stress was still not as great as a child waking up mid-shower causing my heart to seize in utter regret that I even thought I could clean myself).
B.C. I took care of my face (yes, I even got facials every now and then and they were complete Heaven).
B.C. I occasionally appeared rested.
B.C. I had a job that I loved.
B.C. I accessorized without wondering what items may contain lead.
B.C. I never worried whether my pocketbook/purse/I-don't-know-what-the-fuck-to-call-it-anymore was big enough to hold Wet Ones, snack, sippies, wipes, and diapers.
B.C. meals were never such a forethought.
B.C. the shelves in my living room held books, candles, pictures, glass items, and delicate shells that I loved a lot.
B.C. I longed for things that were nicer...monogrammed sheets, leather jackets, cashmere sweaters...without even knowing how silly all of that was.
B.C. I drove like a nut.
B.C. the music was always louder and I would emphasize the curse words as opposed to loudly singing over them.
B.C. I peed alone.
What did you do before your little psychos came along? What do you miss most?
