Things I've discovered upon becoming a mother:

Moms don't shave their legs. Well, OK, we do, but nowhere near as much as we did pre-kids. We just don't have the time - we're either sprinting through the shower so our significant other can make it to work on time at least once this week, or taking a hasty one during naptime. (I have one friend who stepped out of the shower one day to discover she had shaved one leg entirely and only one-half of the other. Did I mention that she has three kids under 3?)

Much like the razor, your hairdryer becomes a thing of the past. You can often catch me gazing lustily at the shiny, blow-dried locks of other women. Straight, sleek hair looks so appealing after yours has been up in a clip or a ponytail day after day after day.

Waking up next to your child is one of the greatest thrills of being a parent. I love snuggling up next to my daughter and watching as her little cherub face goes from sweet slumber to lazy eye flutters, her warm pink cheeks aglow, a smile spreading across her face as she sees mine next to hers.

Yes, you've read all the books that say babies must learn to comfort themselves and put themselves back to sleep, blah blah blah. But when 3 a.m. rolls around and your child is fussing with teething pains, you'll choose the path of least resistance to get your zzzzzzs, which usually involves pulling her into your own bed. (See above paragraph.) A mother's love is unwavering and deep and unconditional and frighteningly powerful.

So is a mother's sense of protection.

It's hysterical to watch a cat's reaction as an 18-month-old comes barreling toward it.

I love how my daughter smells. It's part baby, part lavender, part drool and all McKenna. You'll often find me burying my nose in her hair, or smelling her hands, or clutching her pink blankie and breathing in her scent.

Everyone loves baby smell. Unless you're the Grinch. Or Satan.

My husband and I love that McKenna prefers us over anyone else.

You will gain a profound respect and a deeper love for your parents. Suddenly you realize just what they went through and how many sacrifices they had to make in order to raise you into a halfway decent person.

You will lose some friends - especially work friends - who just can't adjust to your having a completely differently lifestyle.

You will keep and gain friends - some childless, some not - who will love your children as their own.

You will treat mothers with multiple children as gods and pump them for information on an almost daily basis because you really have no idea what you're doing. Breastfeeding isn't nearly as easy as it looks. (One class I took involved a breast "pillow" that looked disturbingly like a hamburger bun. The instructor actually bit into it to show us the proper "latching on" technique. I had to pinch my leg to keep from laughing.)

Having a leisurely breakfast and a cup of coffee with McKenna while listening to Elmo's Greatest Hits sure beats getting stuck in traffic and spilling coffee on my suit and finding three voice-mails already waiting for me at 9 a.m.

There are some days I watch wistfully as my husband drives off to work. I want to be the one driving through traffic and spilling coffee on my suit and answering voice mails at 9 a.m.

Remember your razor and hair dryer? Your iron will go the same route.

Makeup, too.

But you wouldn't change a thing. You're having too much fun.

Dana R. Laverty has a longstanding date with her pink Daisy razor every Saturday morning. You can reach her any other time at danarae14@hotmail.com.