On Tuesday, while on my way out to Dixon to visit a client -- I love calling my previous employer my client -- I cruised by a coffee shop. I had the files I’d be delivering stashed away in a Baby Einstein CD case clipped to Luke’s diaper bag. I was armed with teething toys, drool cloths, and diapers, with my ever-present co-worker (read: boss) fidgeting in his car seat.
As I snapped the car seat out of its base and proceeded into the coffee shop, I began mentally preparing for my meeting and the inevitable question, “So how’s motherhood going?” Dusting off my stock answers, I paused to really ask myself, so how is it going? What came to mind was this:
I thought I’d be better at this.
The response surprised me a little. But, yes, I realized, I did. I knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. I’m not that daft. But, somehow, I thought I could rise to the challenge with a little more natural ease. I thought I’d have more patience. I really thought I was cut out for this. You know, the way my mother was with me.
Ahead of me in line at the coffee counter was another mother. She had a toddler with her as well as a new baby in a carrier similar to Luke’s. I smiled. Maybe there should be a mom’s support group at Starbucks. I’m sure the baristas would be thrilled.
I ordered my chai latte and while I was waiting for it, I peeked in the other mother’s carrier.
“Oh, brand new,” I said. She smiled a tired smile and nodded.
“How old?” I asked.
“Twenty days.”
I chuckled to myself. Other mothers used to ask me the same question. Still do, actually. Other mothers who seem so much more together than me. I looked at the bewildered goldfish eyes staring out from a sea of swaddling in the carrier, and looked back to my own son, who was studying the overheard light fixtures in a fairly contented manner, for the moment.
He looks more like a small person now than that distinctly amphibious look that they’re born with. He’ll be three months old on Sunday, moving out of the realm of newborn and becoming an infant.
We’ve come a long way, kiddo.
I shouldered my diaper bag, picked up my tea, and gave the other mother a nod on my way out the door.