The other day, I remarked to a friend (who is expecting) about my post-pregnancy bionic sense of smell. Really, it’s like my own magical power. In some ways, its good (Fire! Gas!). Others … not so much (poopy diapers, garbage in the kitchen that desperately needs to be thrown away, skunks).
And that got me thinking about a piece I wrote for The Bump last year about how motherhood has changed me. I’m not talking about the whole life-altering (and somewhat expected) “Oh, I never knew I could love another person so much!” ways (which is totally true).
I’m talking the small, day-to-day and sometimes bizarre things, like no longer being able to watch scary movies and that sixth sense that allows me to hear a crying child down the hall behind closed doors.
Oh, and, yes, that sense of smell.