Preschool has been a shiny wonder of amazement in many ways. I’m only going to concentrate on one, and while it is connected to that incredible three-hour stretch of “free” time (ie: time I get to clean the house and work on my projects), it is not wholly that. I mean, having those three childless hours is a given euphoria.
No, what has surprised me the most about my gap of child-filled minutes is…me.
And you wouldn’t think this would be a big deal to someone like me. Someone who continually screams to the universe about how important they are and how much they matter.
But it is.
Because I forgot. Even while telling everyone that I didn’t forget. I forgot.
I forgot how to interact with people without deferring to my kids. I forgot how to look someone in the eye when they talk because I’m usually making sure no one is running into traffic. I forgot how to listen to all the words the other person is saying because I’m expecting an arm tug and an “excuse me, mama.”
Moms wonder about why they have trouble making friends after they have kids, and while I’m sure it’s all the other things we all say it is, maybe it’s also because we can no longer make meaningful conversation with anyone in real time.