A lot of things go by the wayside during early motherhood: Time for hobbies. Personal grooming. Elaborate home-cooked meals. Even some friendships. But as I emerge from the long tunnel of parenting a baby, some things are swinging back to normal. While I still have to prioritize like never before, I can count on a couple hours most evenings to indulge my selfish whims.
But the other day, as I unwittingly hummed a Ke$ha song while shuttling Little Y to storytime, I realized I’ve yet to recapture a big part of my pre-baby self: music lover. Years ago, I took a lot of pride in keeping my music library fresh and full of bands I’d found through long, meandering iTunes searches or friends with similar tastes. In fact, when we began dating, my now-husband accused me of being a music snob. And he was probably right.
Now? Well, now I couldn’t tell you about any buzz-worthy indie bands if my life depended on it. I know whatever is on the Top 40 stations – which sadly does include Ke$ha – and I can sing Little Y a rousing rendition of “Itsy Bitsy Spider.” Meanwhile, my music library hasn’t been updated in a solid 18 months.
I don’t see this changing any time soon. Yes, I get some “me time” – but after using it to clean, shower, do some freelancing, and maybe have a conversation that may or may not involve full sentences with Papa Y, scouring iTunes for new music doesn’t even sound appealing.
I’m going to see if I can make a few minor changes stick – more Pandora and less TV while I’m vegging in the evenings, for instance. I may even mess with the radio presets in the car, much to Papa Y’s chagrin. But I know I’ll never recapture the glory of my child-free years, when every minor episode of life had its own soundtrack.
Have you kissed any parts of your pre-baby self goodbye?