1. How little you can really get done during the day with a 6 month old. It is embarrassing and I will not further elaborate.
2. How insanely efficient you become during said 6 month old's naps. Eating, cleaning, laundry, phone calls, bill paying, and catching up on Project Runway are now crammed into 30-60 minute power sessions. Oh, and blogging.
3. How much of an idiot you become. I'm not talking about actual loss of intelligence (although, some days I do think there is a loss there as well), I'm talking about making a total fool of yourself. Since The Child can't talk back to me in the form of anything other than screams and shrieks, I pretty much talk to myself all day. My internal monologue is no longer internal, and I channel Julie Andrews in Peter Pan, Mary Poppins, and The Sound of Music on a regular basis. And not just in the privacy of my home or car. People have actually turned around in the store and asked me to clarify what i just said, because they thought I was addressing them. Nope, don't mind me...I'm just babbling to myself, all for the supposed verbal/intellectual benefit of The Child.
4. How many people (total strangers) feel compelled to touch The Child, and start up a conversation with you. Especially old ladies with visibly dirty hands and fingernails. I mean, I know The Child is the most adorable child to ever grace their presence (hee hee), but is there really a need to touch? And they simply MUST touch her hands, face, toys and feet, which are now also her toys. Of course, The Child loves this attention, and smiles at them, which only further encourages them to contaminate her. Yes, I said contaminate. I haven't yet figured out a way to tell them to keep their hands to themselves, so I just Purell the goodness out of whatever appendage they grab, and put the toy in a plastic bag to be washed at home. I wish I was joking about this. Any suggestions about how to review the basic kindergarten lesson of "keep your hands to yourself" with these ladies are greatly appreciated.
5. How much you appreciate dinner with Loving Husband sans baby. When she decides nap time is when we want to eat dinner, I do a little dance of joy. That means Loving Husband and I can actually eat dinner together (like, at the same time), and speak to each other, without interruptions like picking up the toys thrown on the floor....over, and over, and over...