All in a day's work

Today I got so much done I felt like superwoman. I got up and worked out before the kids woke up because I'm a morning person now (she said with disdain). Got everyone bathed, dressed, and partially fed and arrived only 30 minutes late to Playschool!

After Playschool I had to rush to my dentist appointment. It was my first big appointment like this with two kids in tow. Sabine was asleep so I brought the carseat inside. She stayed asleep until the just before the hygienist came in. Then when the chair tilled back and my head disappeared from her view (which to a baby means you're completely gone) she freaked out. I spent the rest of the exam with her on my lap.

I've nursed my kids in a lotta places, and I figure the most notable place I nursed Jacob was at my own wedding reception. As of today, the most notable nursing experience I've had with Sabine is breastfeeding her through half my dental exam.

Next we came home and in I was so jazzed up from a successful appointment with both kids that I cleaned and straightened up like mad. I got more done in thirty minutes than I sometimes do in a whole day. Then my mom called and encouraged me go get my hair cut because she knew it'd been on my list for a good, long while.

The baby came with me for the haircut because of the thing where I can't leave her sight nowadays. She arrived fully awake so there was no chance of her staying in the carseat but I brought it in anyway because if she got to be a problem while I was getting my hair cut at least no one would think to themselves why didn't she bring something to put that baby in. And don't you know when I tilted my head back in the sink, effectively vanishing from her sight, she let out one long screech that lasted until I pulled her out mid-shampoo. Then she spent the rest of the haircut happy as a clam perched up on my lap looking around at all the shiny things.

So the hairdresser (Emily) and I, we got to talking. She looked about my age. Then I found out that she went to the same high school as me. Suddenly Emily starts looking familiar to me and I'm thinking haha, isn't that funny how I'm always running into people I went to high school with...I ask Emily what year she graduated. '06. Swell. Turns out she's not my age. Not a huge age difference, but enough of a difference to make a 28 year old who still thinks of herself as a 'young mom', feel Old.

For a while she's cutting my hair and we're taking turns naming people we know that the other of us might have gone to school with. Funny how people are always trying to make connections like that. It's not like you're going to go call up your friend from high school with exciting news that the girl who cut your hair went to school with their cousin. I guess it just makes us feel a little less distant from one another in a world that's becoming increasingly disconnected.

Anyway, none of the name-dropping is ringing a bell with either of us and it's starting to get a little awkward until I name a kid I used to change the diapers of. Her face lights up. Oh yeah, she remembers him from school. Double swell.

Then Emily names her gym teacher, calling her Miss instead of the name I know her by, and wrinkles her nose. I graduated with the gym teacher and to picture her like that, as a teacher who provokes a nose wrinkle, makes me think of a mean, old teacher. Not young and nice, but old and mean. Then I realize quite a few of the people I graduated with are now teachers at my old school. I start rattling off names and the ball is really rolling now.

Back at home I couldn't stop looking at my hair in the mirror. Emily used a super-ultra-mega flat iron that got so hot it could give you third degree burns. It's never been straighter and longer in my life. Now I'm usually the type who obsesses over her weight, but never have I really considered that my body might be aging. All the looking in the mirror finally brought my attention to my face. I don't look so young anymore; I discovered these little wrinkles.

No longer do people question me when they find out I have kids. I used to always be mistaken for a younger age. I never minded because I'd say, "When I get old I'll be glad to have people misjudge my age." But I was always mature for my age, responsible and wise, acted older than I was, I looked young though.

I'm used to the hairdressers and dental hygienists being older than me, having children my age. Maybe it's the fact that I'm the baby of the family and used to always being the youngest, or maybe it's just that I'm a young-at-heart kind of person, but for some reason I can't wrap my head around the idea that I'm actually acting my age.