"How old is your baby?" her voice came from a couple stalls over. It was a harsh voice, like a 50 year smoker, and not the voice I had expected from the older woman who had walked into the restroom in front of Gwennie and I at Costco.
"She is a month old," I replied while pulling up my pants and trying to decide if I would hang out in the restroom until Natalie was done nursing. I don't make it a habit of nursing in restrooms. In fact I am a huge fan of NIP (nursing in public) because Gwennie was an easy nursling. Natalie? She is noisy and messy and she will pop on and off the breast multiple times in one nursing session. Then, just for fun, she'll spit up all over me. I really hope that as she gets older she'll be "better" at it. She is a decent nurser, but Gwennie was so much more... efficient.
"Are you a busy mom?" the gravely voice spoke up again. This question gave me pause. Am I? Sure I was at Costco with a little baby and a 5 1/2 year old (who had to pee for the 2nd time since we had arrived.) I don't really consider myself "busy". I don't over schedule my kids, in fact I rarely schedule any extracurricular activities for them.*
I paused for a moment before answering her "Yes, of course, I'm a mom." Of course I am busy, but I am busy enjoying life and not filling every spare moment trying to keep my kids occupied. I am busy watching my kids grow. I am busy spending time with good friends. I am busy sitting in my recliner holding my small (but long) baby girl because she'll only be a newborn/infant for a short time and I want to soak it all up.
*This is partly because I feel stress and anxiety when I have too much going on.