This afternoon at lunch, a friend bounced my 5-1/2-month-old little Kung Fu Panda on her knee. Recently turned a great-grandmother herself, my friend and I shared notes on babies. Sure enough, all of the wonderful discoveries I find so magical sounded familiar to her. She was, however, impressed with his progress and kept saying, "Is he doing that already?" whenever I shared a developmental milestone.
"Can you believe how long it takes you to get out of the house now?" she asked.
I nodded in agreement, admitting that I begin getting ready at least 15-20 minutes before I actually have to leave. This morning, leaving involved: a diaper change, a last-minute feeding (as his cries let me know it was a hunger emergency), and then another diaper change, on top of packing a diaper bag, grabbing a copy of my new book, The Art of Life, to show my friend and snagging a handful of cards advertising the book, to place on the promotional table at the cafe.
With all of that, I had just enough time to drive to the cafe, but then I realized I'd left behind the eBay items I had to mail to a customer. After retrieving them, I pulled into the parking lot about one minute late. Not too bad, I thought to myself.
KFP was getting sleepy (probably still a bit milk-drunk) in his stroller as I pushed him into the cafe. My friend helped me lift it up the two steps to sit at a quiet table by the window.
After removing my winter coat and placing my order at the front counter as my friend watched KFP, I finally sat down. That's when I realized my shirt was fitting a little strangely. Nonchalantly, I reached inside as I said to my friend, "Excuse me. I forgot to refasten my nursing bra."
You know, before KFP, that probably would have bothered me. But today, as KFP beamed at my friend, all I could do was smile.
Babies have a way of reshaping priorities.