life before kids [lahyf bih-fohr kidz] noun 1) the distant, largely fictitious universe of leisure, long naps, and far less stress. 2) The Land Before Time. She vaguely recalls her life before kids, as if it were a relic from some prehistoric time. 3) the “event horizon”—the boundary of no return surrounding every black hole where the escape velocity of the black hole exceeds the speed of light, thus rending anything beyond the event horizon as lost forever.
Examples: sleep in (or voluntarily choose not to); enjoy an entire cup of coffee while it’s still hot; hell, make two cups of coffee and drink them in your f*cking bed; roll out your yoga mat and practice in complete silence; linger in Savasana without fear of being body slammed by your toddler; take a morning nap with the cats (or voluntarily choose not to); take a shit without your one-year-old pulling themselves up by the toilet seat between your legs, without your toddler trying to sneak a peek to correctly label your #2 as a “big poopy or small poopy”; take a shower without a tiny person opening up the curtain, sending a steady stream of water out and a rush of cold air in; dine out in PEACE—without judgmental glares from nearby strangers that gape in horror at the sheer amount of noise your creatures are making and the amount of food scraps and stickers accumulating on the floor and the way the children prefer to use their hands instead of utensils and the amount of ketchup your toddler consumes with his fries; make craft cocktails and play board games with your partner (or voluntarily choose not to); voluntarily choose to do anything.
verb
4) do whatever the f*ck you want whenever you want.
life after kids [lahyf ahf-ter kidz]
noun
1) an unrehearsed, ongoing, highly unaffordable circus.
2) complete and utter shit show.
3) the eternal state of chaos that slowly erodes one’s sanity. One afternoon during her life after kids, she found herself sitting in the driver’s seat of her kid-free SUV listening to her audiobook in the Kroger parking lot, a trunk full of groceries waiting to be unpacked, and she thought, oh my f*cking god, isn’t this the most luxurious moment I’ve had all week.