B.C. versus A.D.

B.C., "Before Christ". A.D., "Anno Domini".

If you ask someone about these abbreviations, there are likely (hopefully) going to tell you what they stand for and will also know that they are used to refer to a point in time either before or after the birth of Jesus Christ. However, if you ask a parent, more specifically, if you ask me about the abbreviations B.C. and A.D., you are entirely likely to hear something other than "Before Christ" and "Anno Domini"; you just might hear "Before Children" and "After Delivery". Because, let's be honest, just as the birth of Christ is a dividing point in our world history, the birth of children is a dividing point in life as it was once known.

So many things are different during the A.D. era than they were during the B.C. era. For instance, "Before Children" sleeping in meant sleeping until close to noon. "After Delivery", sleeping in means sleeping until 0830. I'm not saying one is better than the other; I am merely recognizing the differences in the two eras. Unless said "sleeping in" is on the heels of a night out with one or two or five too many drinks. Then, I am completely inclined to argue that B.C. is far superior to A.D.

There is no denying that the love you feel from and for your children is better than anything you have or will ever experience in life; however, the road that you quickly turn onto once you bring children into this world and into your life is astonishingly different from the one you were coasting down B.C.

To further illustrate my point, I'd like to retroactively invite you to dinner at my house last night; it was quite a peaceful one.

B.C., had you asked me what a nice, quiet, peaceful dinner would entail, I would have likely explained a quiet evening at home with something delectable served on nice plates, maybe some music playing in the background. And, if my husband was trying to get "lucky" that night, maybe even some candles on the table. Now, A.D., if you ask me same question, my answer would be nothing short of a narration of last night's dinner.

Having put dinner plans off until the eleventh hour, we opted for burgers on the grill and corn on the cob. Chris wanted stuffed potatoes as well, which we had, despite the carb overload that comes with carb A, corn served alongside carb b, potatoes. Whatever. The kids were thrilled and I managed to avoid the usual dinner consumption negotiation with Zach, our four year old. Consumption negotiations - that's something that's new with our generation's parenting, I believe. I cannot remember a time when my parents negotiated with me on this subject. I can, however, remember a time when I ate sweet peas, all the while fighting my gag reflex, out of fear of punishment. And it's not just my household that was like this - just ask my husband or mother-in-law about the timer on the stove. Ooohhh, that thing going off in their house at the close of dinnertime, coupled with food still on the children's plates, was nearly Apocalyptic. Okay, maybe not Apocalyptic, but almost.

So, here were are, or rather were, with burgers, corn on the cob and potatoes ready. This is where the difference in definitions begins. Remember those nice plates I spoke of in my description of a quiet, peaceful dinner in the B.C. era? Yes, well last night's dinner was served on paper plates - the kind that are adorned with Elmo, Abby, Big Bird and other Sesame Street characters. Why? Because as all parents know, dinnertime is the start of the nightly evening marathon that we all run - dinner, bath, bed, kitchen clean-up. And lessening the amount of kitchen clean-up by even a mere four plates is worth not being "green" for the moment. So many fancy shmancy things get pushed along the wayside in the A.D. era. Plates are but one.
Gone are the days when we would light up a torch in our kitchen to fire up a perfect creme brulee. Nope, we now resort to break 'n bake cookies; which, by the way, are quite tasty.

Back to our peaceful dinner...almost. Notice that I have dropped quiet and am now just going with peaceful. Why? Because for those of you without children, we parents can tell that quiet and peaceful do not necessarily coexist. Peaceful takes on a new meaning in the A.D. era. It comes to mean being able to do anything without interruption. And I mean anything: showering, checking the mail, using the restroom, you name it - once you have children, it can just as easily be peaceful as it can not.

A mere five minutes into dinner, Paige, our 15 1/2 month old "Firestarter" (refer to previous post titled "Fireman Sam") is waving her arms to relay to us that she is "all done". She likes to eat a little, get out of her chair, play and stop back at the table for a bite here and there. She's a fan of the drive-thru, I suppose. Zach is not too far behind her; however, thankfully he has outgrown the waving his arms stage and now asks if he may leave the table. Ah-ha! Some shred of proof that we just MIGHT be raising him right.

Chris and I are left at the table alone to finish our dinner in peace, and we do. However, let me tell what finishing your dinner in peace during the A.D. era looks like.

It looks like Nickolodeon blaring on the television versus the soft sounds of relaxing music. It looks like a four year old and a 15 1/2 month old having a screaming contest; one that I am sure, had I taken the time to check the crystal prior to typing this post, could cause me to report the discovery of shattered stemware. It looks like a one-eyed dog, named Frankie, barking and running around the house because the screaming contest is getting on his nerves and he is long overdue for a prescription of Prozac. Lastly, it looks like G.I. Joe figurines and used Kleenex strewn on the table versus the romantic candle or two.

So, while many a childless couples probably enjoyed quiet, peaceful dinners last night, we were thrilled to have had a peaceful one, albeit, not at all quiet, in this A.D. era home.