usually i get these fuzzy (in a good way) little moments where i know that even though i am young- i am doing exactly what i am supposed to be doing in life right now and i feel really really lucky.
other times, i am bent over with my underwear showing out the back of my pants, trying to scrape a tantruming toddler off the library story-time floor and simultaneously bribing him with candy/juice/his toy dog/anything short of his own Nintendo DS if he promises to get up... my hair is falling out of it's messy ponytail, my broken out skin (thank you pregnancy hormones) is flushing red since i know everyone can hear me and him, and i'm doing all of this in a stance that can best be described as "granny bowling" since i have a five-month bun cooking in my oven that makes it hard for me to bend over these days.
someone will walk by and take note of him and me and the impending baby bump and mutter something helpful like, "looks like you've got your hands full..." with a tone of equal parts pity, humor, and a little disdain for the young girl who is apparently very fertile or something...
this is when i feel like a pregnant teenager. a little in over my head and seemingly unequipped to "deal" with it all.
but then there are all the other moments when something whispers to me that i am doing all this for a reason and it's probably no coincidence that i just happen to be young while doing it, that my son is healthy and happy and loves his mama, that my family (both sides)and husband are proud of me and always so helpful (i'm not alone in other words), and there are many other girls just like me.
yup girls, we are all just young girls trying our best. trading something that seems more exciting and glamorous for something a little more lasting and not always as easy.
so, when we head to the park for a lovely lunch and mother/son play excursion and i look down to see that his clothes are mysteriously soaked and lo and behold i havent packed a spare outfit for him since he was nine months old and he's squealing to get out of his soggy attire and saggy diaper - i can relax, maneuver my melon-esque torso to a suitable position conducive to getting down in the grass and putting him in a clean diaper, leave him in nothing but that and his clompy shoes and continue on to more time playing in the fleeting good weather... soaking it up.... ambrose, his bun of a brother, and his pregnant teen mom. :)