Caroline turned two years old on Sunday and in 24 months' time I've learned time passes more quickly when you're living for something beyond yourself. I mean, I thought recess went fast decades ago, but motherhood moves at lightning speed.
Very few songs you'll hear on the mainstream radio keep my attention for two full minutes. But the current song that garners my full attention when broadcast is Brothers Osborne's "I Don't Remember Me (Before You)". It's a song about a guy who - despite seeing pictures or hearing stories - can't remember himself before he met the love of his life. It is spellbinding.
Although there are ways I can relate to that song, I certainly do remember life before I loved Caroline.
For instance,
Before Caroline my Amazon searches consisted of must-read books, Liverpool jeans and kitchen gadgets that allow me to open and aerate wine more quickly.
Two years in, and my Amazon searches consist of toddler water shoes, Pull-Ups and gummy vitamins.
Before Caroline, Cody and I could talk about anything, anywhere, any time.
Two years in, and our breakfast conversation goes something like this:
"I have to breed C-O-W-S first thing this morning. Your plans?" Cody asks.
"When we get home from town I'm going to fill the P-O-O-L. Have you charged the J-E-E-P?" I respond.
"Yes. It's behind the T-R-A-C-T-O-R."
Our adult dialog is a constant spelling bee to avoid losing track of the tasks at hand.
Before Caroline I never gave a second thought to the pigment of the outer edge of my drink ware.
Two years in, and I realize you can ruin a person's entire morning by pouring milk into the wrong color cup.
Before Caroline I enjoyed showers.
Two years in, and I can shower, shave and moisturize in less time than it used to take me to undress. Motherhood is a prime case study of survival of the fittest efficient.
Before Caroline I could get into the refrigerator and simply select what I needed then promptly shut the door to keep the cold air in.
Two years in, and I find myself giving a diaper diva a four-minute synopsis of the practical uses of every condiment on the door shelves, followed by a 30-second lesson on energy and appliance efficiency. She never seems to care about the energy lesson because I repeat it five times a day.
Before Caroline I could try on clothes in a dressing room without saying a word....other than, "The hell? Did I grab the wrong size?"
Two years in, and I find myself saying these phrases on repeat:
"Do NOT unlock that door."
"Stand up! Do NOT peak under that wall!"
"I appreciate your self-confidence, but please stop licking the mirror."
Before Caroline I would spend my evenings doing chores and focusing on heat cycles, levels inside the creep and mineral feeders and pasture growth.
Two years in, and I find my feeding time twice as long because I have a chore pal who thinks cows in standing heat is hilarious, enjoys getting her hands in bags of feed to explore textures and likes picking forage samples and showing me every red clover she can find.
Before Caroline my time was my own.
Two years in, everything takes twice as long, but is one hundred times over more gratifying.
There are days when I'm not sure who is learning more, Caroline or her parents, but let's keep that between us.
And while I'll never be a mother that claims to not remember the me before her, despite the self-doubt and dry shampoo, I like this version of myself a whole lot better.
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