By Wendy Goldsmith-Pruitt

It used to be that when I got together with friends we would have debates about music and movies, or compare stories from our shared college experience. Now we discuss our mortgages and interest rates, national politics and the future of our schools. Seriously – when did we all become grownups?

My husband blames one specific life occurrence: having a child. Now I don’t just have to worry about the world that I live in, I have to worry about the world in which he will grow up. How could I ever explain to him that the next Republican president supports equal rights for everyone, except when it comes to marriage? Or that some people think mommy can never be President of the United States because no woman is “equipped” for the job of commander-in-chief.

It was way easier to shrug off stories about Georgia mandating career-readiness for ninth graders when you didn’t have a kidlet that would eventually be a ninth grader. It’s also possible that Before my Kiddo (B.K.) I would have never written my State House Representative about the cuts to the HOPE Scholarship and Pre-K, or have been so absolutely devastated that said representative is about to be redistricted OUT of my district.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love a good academic discussion on the linguistics of lolcats (I totally watched that during lunch at work), but it seems lately that I get most worked up about injustices and families. I’ve been known to bawl while listening to NPR’s feature on military families. B.K., well, it would have been touching … but not nearly as much. Seriously, I was crying so hard on my way home that my husband got concerned when he saw mascara running down my cheeks.

As much as I try to relate to the girls at work who are all fresh out of school, it can be tough when the discussion turns to Pottery Barn, ULTA and the latest news on “The Bachelor” front. I want to shake them and tell them that their brothers and sisters who are in college are about to lose their scholarship money; that this mid-term election is ACTUALLY interesting and they should vote tonight (“but I can do that tomorrow morning too, right?”) … but I know that if I start, I’ll just end up sounding like their mother.

The thing is, I don’t think “sounding like my mother” is such a bad thing anymore. Actually, I am kind of proud of it.

Wendy Goldsmith-Pruitt is a mommy, wife and designer in Atlanta. And no, she is not ready for another kid yet.

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