- I can shave my hoo-ha without having to lift my belly out of the way.
- The oral fixation era has passed.
- I no longer have excessive post-partum anxiety which causes me to wonder if I'll accidentally kill my newborn by tossing her down the basement stairs.
- My hair has finally regrown to cover the bald spots.
- I don't have to clean one more damn bottle. The skinny scrubber and the big scrubber have been trashed.
- I'm through with constantly hovering over my children and bolting when they are too close to the stairs. They are capable of being careful. And if they aren't, they will learn a valuable lesson.
- At birthday parties, my children are independent and I can actually enjoy that glass of wine and girl talk uninterrupted.
- I'm no longer icing my swollen, bleeding post-partum vagina.
- My boys look like boys now and not weird Benjamin Button monkey-lizard babies.
- I'm not walking around with a perpetual pinched nerve from forcing myself to be unnaturally still because a baby is sleeping on my chest.
- I lost 58 of the 60 pregnancy pounds. Holla!
- When I pull up to Target and see there are no carts in the cart spaces, panic no longer sets in because I have to frantically run across the parking lot, slam through the front doors, grab a cart, and crash back through the exit, panting to myself, "Everyone will see I am not a bad mom, I'm not leaving my babies in the car, it was only a minute, I'm fine, I'm fine, pity me..."
The baby phase was rough, wasn't it, mamas? We are infinitely grateful that we are forever and ever done with it...well...probably. For now, the only butterballs in our ovens look like this: