I had quite a lovely trip to the mall this morning. I went because a local toy store has the entire store on sale, for 20% off, and I picked up a couple of board games I had been planning to buy as Christmas presents. I have now officially Christmas shopped in October, and I am now officially my mother. QED.

While there I helped one lady find the way out to the parking garage, and one older gentleman behind the wheel of his car find the exit ramp for the parking garage. Memo to Bayshore: your new parking garage is very confusing. However, it did result in me feeling pretty good about my totally wicked mall navigation skills. Plus, I also helped a lady order coffee at the Starbucks, something I barely feel able to do myself, but we muddled through in a we’re-all-in-this-together kind of way and everyone ended up with caffeine so it was all good.

Out front at the toy store they were running a Mommy And Baby yoga class. About 20 young moms were there, each with a babe-in-arms less than six months old – most looked to me like they were barely two months old. They all were trying to stand, in an unsteady stork pose, holding their baby – except the ones who were walking and rocking the fussers, and a couple who were sitting down trying to get a good latch on. The babies were all just so tiny – you know the way they are when their heads still loll about, unsupported, and they lie like bags of potatoes in your arms, eyes wildly looking everywhere and nowhere at once. I just cannot imagine we were ever like that, that my oldest was ever so small and helpless.

Later I overheard a few of them, chatting at the Starbucks while I was waiting for my order. They were having a very passionate discussion of nighttime diaper changes, the quality of poop, and legendary blow-outs. I can remember having similar conversations, I remember when my whole days were a constant running loop of who-has-pooped-when, interspersed with who-has-eaten-when, but it’s hazy, like looking through gauzy curtains. Those new moms seemed like a different age from me, although I’m sure they’re no more than 10 years behind where I am now. I wonder what I seem like to them. Personally, I don’t remember noticing very many other people when out with my babies.

That’s okay though – I’m happy for them, and I’m happy to be where I am now. I took my latte and my board games and went home to a quiet house, where soon I’ll make dinner and help my kids with their homework and maybe think about the rest of my Christmas list, and then I’ll go to bed and sleep all night long in peace. That’s a good thing.