Parents, Parents Everywhere

I'm sure I've marveled at it before, but I can't get over how many more people I notice with babies than I did before having one of my own.  This weekend in Chicago I saw a dad with a carseat cradled in the basket of his shopping cart, rushing through Target and throwing baby sundry goods in his cart like he was carrying a ticking time bomb (which he kind of was).  I saw a woman with the tiniest of babies cradled in a Baby Bjorn strolling down the aisle in a floor-length turquoise dress, and all I could think of was how sore I was when Connor was that size.  I saw numerous couples with carseats and babies slung on hips and babies in carts and running through aisles.  The world is brimming with babies and new parents.  I'm not quite sure how I missed it before.

Z, 'Rad, and I went to Chicago this weekend to hang out with my sister and see my parents.  Last Saturday was St. Patrick's Day and we were in the big city to witness the drunks, pasty-white legs barely covered by kelly green skirts and shorts, and the general masses pulsing through the streets.  I love our quiet country home, but there is something to be said for getting lost in the sea and sounds of the city.  We went out to eat with my parents, and while I gorged myself on linguini with clam sauce and crusty white bread, Z took 'Rad outside to people watch and get fawned over by complete strangers.  Ah, Chicago.

On Sunday we took the kids to the park where Connor had his first swing and slide experiences.  He acted like he had done it all before and loved it as much then as he did that day.

Baby, kid in the city

Sliding side-by-side with cousin Teagie

A  new way to bounce

I have some kick ass video of Connor going down the slide (complete with a big, open-mouthed smile at the bottom), but I haven't figured out how to pull off of my camera yet.  Maybe next time.

However, if putting that video up is anything like completing the other tasks that I tell myself I'll do, it's likely to get forgotten despite all of my best intentions.  My mind is slowly eroding, like pebbles falling off of a cliff. Or maybe a better analogy would be to compare it to a quick sand pit, where the more intensely I try to remember something the more likely it is to get sucked into the bottom less pit that has become my memory.

It's not just my memory; I find it harder and harder to focus each day on things that aren't related to Connor, Z, Blue, or my family.  I can't tell if it's for lack of trying or if it's some physiological, hormonal, transformation happening.  I feel like I'm waiting to shed some skin to become a new version of myself, but I'm confused as to which part I should be shedding and which part is supposed to be the "new me."  Just when I think I'm making strides towards an identity, I find myself set back even further.  Is this a sign that I should take to heart the idea that trying to cling to and form an identity causes suffering, that I should just let things be?  Or is it a sign that I should keep on striving to keep up with my ever-evolving identity as a mama bear?  I'm going to keep working on it and I'll let you know.