Trade-Off
Jennifer Lynne Kennard
Four years ago, I heard the urgent wails from my biological clock. Calling out like a time bomb. Tick, tick, ticking, "before it's too late". So without a moment's hesitation, I jumped into action and swiftly silenced those cries...with a baby's.
A trade-off. One cry for another's. One, bikini ready stomach, for a built-in, baby-carrying muffin top. The ability at any time to blissfully flip through the pages of Cosmo and sniff EVERY perfume sample, for the ability to smell poop, literally poop, from miles away. And if it belongs to one of my own kids, I could smell it from another planet. From having the perspective that everyone is entitled to their own privacy to having eyes in the back of my head. As well as, the freedom to "get to it" when I was ready to having "baby-catching, plate-falling, vase-teetering, if that fork lands with it's teeth down", cat-like reflexes.
Sometimes I wonder, could Mom's really have it all? Could we pull it off like Clark Kent and Superman? Can we trade-off our "by-day" aprons for "by-night" mini skirts?
Sure. But who has the time!