I had my daughter at 26. Are you off the floor? Have you recovered? I know in most parts of the world this is totally normal – but in the Tri-state area, we were freaks (did I tell you we got married at 24?)
Here’s another zinger – we planned it that way. Let me clarify. We wanted to start a family early – we just didn’t realize it would happen instantaneously because I’m a fertile mertile.
We were thrilled, scared, happy and a little crazy. So while all our friends went out to paint the town red, we stayed in and painted a hallway yellow – and called it a nursery.
The first few months after she was born were a blur. I was not the earth mother I thought I would be (breastfeeding? no thanks!) But eventually I got my mojo back, shook off the mild depression and decided to leave the apartment.
We lived just a few blocks away from a small neighborhood park . I decided to pack up the baby and go for a walk.
I had grand plans. The baby was too small to play so I would sit on a bench, maybe connect with some other moms, offer parenting tips, etc..
I took a spot in the middle of all the action, a ton of kids playing, a bunch of women sitting around – perfect. Then, one of the other “moms” turned to me and said, “How long have you been watching the baby?” “Is the family nice?”. Hmm? Excuse me? Oh. OH. It took me a few seconds to figure it out – like a scene in a horror movie where the camera pans wide and you suddenly see the big picture. I was in a sea of nannies – and I fit right in.
Any normal human being would have corrected them and gone on with their lives. Not this human. I was so stunned and shocked that I just played along for an hour and never went back.
The baby and her nanny
