The lady and her daughter walked away (thanks so much for the pop quiz woman), and you and I were left alone. For a very brief moment, I felt shame and embarrassment. What kind of mother can't remember her only child's birth stats? (Just in case, here it is in writing: you were born at 8:41pm on a Sunday, 20 inches long, 7 pounds and 9 ounces... oh, March 15th. 2009.)
But then, I looked at you, you smiled at me, and suddenly I remembered... I don't care about any of that!!! Becoming a mother means joining the club of motherhood. Members of this club love to share, compare, offer advice, ask questions, vent, laugh, cry... it makes us feel like we aren't going through this alone. While that's important and very necessary at times, there's really only one TRUE important thing and that's you. Our children. Which means there's a SLEW of UNimportant things. Like...
Remembering the date and time of your first smile (besides when I close my eyes, I can see it).
What my hair looks like.
Is your nursery cute, funky, unique enough?
What my clothes look like.
Is my house organized, clean, does it look the way I want it to look?
What my face looks like. Yes, that's poop on my face.
The list goes on and on. At the end of the day, I don't care about those things, thanks to you. You have freed me of the desire to meet any and all expectations that don't have to do with being a good person and mother. Thank you little buddy, it's quite a relief.
(See, I am capable of writing something serious and thoughtful. And yes, I do have poop on my face. It's pretty.)