-
Motherhood is so glamorous.
A while back when I was at a wedding, filling up Baby Bug’s sippy cup at the punch bowl, there was this young strapping man waiting for me. He chuckled when he saw me awkwardly trying to ladle in some fizzy pink punch into a small plastic cup with purple handles on both sides. In the old days, I’d probably try to think of something clever and flirtatious to say. But the sippy cup kinda ruined that so I said instead, “Motherhood is so glamorous.” He laughed.
Ever since, I’ve been saying that to everyone who catches me in the middle of the trenches of motherhood. It’s my new motto. I grin and think it to myself as I heft up giant ziplock bags of laundry up and down my stairs.
At the laundromat there is a dry cleaners next door and in the front window there is a tailer who sits there all day sewing. He watches me every time, grinning at Baby Bug. I know I must amuse him as I pile laundry bags on top of Baby Bug’s head while she’s in the stroller and then I maneuver the whole top heavy mess in and out of the laundromat with one hand while the other hand opens the door and catches flying pacifiers. I’m getting very good at this circus operation.
When things go wrong, like they always do, I just chalk it up as another practice round. Practice makes perfect. Every time we go out to lunch in a restaurant and I find that I’ve forgotten some important item like a bib or the handy dandy little table top cover, I just tell myself I’m in training. Some days the daily grind reminds me a bit of training for a marathon. It’s hard but you feel good that you’re doing it.
One of these days I’ll be a lean mean mommy machine.
-
Just call me Mommy Poppins.
Lately everywhere I go, I take an umbrella. Not because it’s raining (fat chance of that with this sweltering summer heat) but because it’s soooo sunny and bright! I don’t care what I look like, I don’t want Baby Bug to get a sun burn. So I walk around town with a golf umbrella. As the sun goes down, I tilt the umbrella to follow it. Sometimes I walk with the umbrella at a 90 degree angle away from my body. I look like I’m using it as a barrier to plow through crowds. But I’m not. I just am getting addicted to not squinting any more. Now I hardly ever go out without the umbrella.
The other day I was at the laundromat and Baby Bug was getting hungry. I was frantically looking for a private place to nurse her but it was about 102 degrees and nursing in the car was out of the question. The restroom at the laundromat is small and cramped and you have to put a coin in the door to get it to open. Plus, people are using it constantly. So I sat down in some chairs, that I thought were sort of out of the way, and draped a blanket over my shoulder as best I could. (I do have those hooter hider things but they don’t work for me. Baby Bug needs constant attention. We are still having latching issues and bla bla bla bla… whatever.)
Wouldn’t you know it, two little boys (about 8 and 10 maybe) came and sat right next to me. I could tell by their smirks and giggles that they had never been around a nursing mother before and I started to get really really uncomfortable. Of course Baby Bug is not a quiet eater and she likes to play games with me like pull at the blanket and my clothes. Things were not going well for me and my uninvited audience.
So what did I do? I whipped out my trusty umbrella and popped it open. Kabamo! Instant privacy. I love that umbrella. I’m sure I’ll find another hundred uses for it before Baby Bug turns three.
