Margo’s first camping trip. She ate a lot of dirt, finally learned to crawl (although she does this kind of half-crawl thing where she has one foot planted on the ground and one knee down), decided she does NOT like cold water and climbed her first mountain. Sebago Lake campground was a little more developed than we normally frequent: hot showers, a sink to wash dishes in, a playground, and lots and lots of kids. Emily said it felt like we went on vacation in Maine instead of really camping, but it was perfect for a baby’s first sleep in the woods.
I had a moment, as I carried Margo past the RVs and campfires. A gaggle of kids ran passed us, stopped to talk about something, then looked at me and lowered their voices. They thought of me as the baby’s Mom. It was a strange sensation, sort of like when we were in the hospital and a nurse asked for “Mom” to sign the papers, and I thought she was talking about my own mother instead of me. But now it’s really starting to sink in: I am someone’s Mother. It makes me feel proud and old all at the same time.
In other news, I quit my job. Working nights and in the restaurant industry was starting to drain my soul. I’m teaching a class in the fall and can hopefully pick up some odd jobs during the semester. We’ll be pretty broke, but also pretty happy. And hopefully the once-every-six-weeks post habit I’ve gotten into will change. It feels like things are changing now, all the time. But we’re ready for them.
