This whole being a stay-at-home-Mom thing is starting to make me feel quite old. The car seats in the car. The Pepperidge Farm Goldfish and sippy cup in my purse. The fact that I told a 4-year-old to do something "Because I said so!"
On the way to "Storytime" last week, Hannah and I stopped to run an errand. As I was pushing her in the stroller, I caught in my eye someone who attended my grade school, staring at me wide-eyed. They quickly averted their gaze, but I could read their mind. "Oh my God, SHE has a kid?!?" Checking out at a store, the comments and questions always come. "How old is she!?" "Your daughter is beautiful!" "Oh look, she has Mommy's ____!" [Really, that's funny considering you've never met "Mommy"!] It makes me wonder if I should teach Hannah to hold a sign proclaiming that I'm just her Nanny.
The universe has a way of exploiting insecurities. Today, Tyler, the almost-13-year-old, needed to be taken to school late and thus signed into the main office. With Hannah on my hip and Tyler by my side, I signed along the "Parent/Legal Guardian" dotted line and the Secretary said, "Alright, Mom! We're done with you!"
"No! No! No! I'm just the Nanny," I laughed. "And just for the record - I would have had to be 9 years old when I gave birth if he was my son."
Next stop, botox.
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