a mother is born.

early may. 2006

the weather is warm.  warm enough to shed the layers of winter and feel the sun on your face.  warm enough to drink an iced coffee and second guess yourself about having not applied the sunscreen. 

i’ve made the trek to the high school field where my husband is playing a casual game of ultimate frisbee.  it’s sunday.  it’s a sunny day.  it took a lot of work to get here now that i’m a mom.  diaper bag, bottles, back up formula, soothers, car seat, stroller, hat for the infant, and oh, right… me too. 

i’m determined to get some fresh air.  for all our sakes.  it’s been two very long, very dreary and very terrible months.  i will not be defeated.  (even though my child screamed the whole car ride here).  i repeat.  i will not be defeated. 

i watch from the sidelines.  the baby (at this point) is rather content.  sigh.

i’m not really athletic.  i’m wouldn’t even call myself “sporty”.  competition and i don’t really mix. 

and yet- i realize that if i wanted to play, if i had any desire at all to get out there at that moment… i couldn’t.  i am on the sidelines with my gazillion pounds of baby gear and of course- the baby.  i feel a tinge of panic.  “what in the world have we done- having a kid?”

i feel the huge weight of responsibility.

a mother is born.