My day as a mom.

Today I spent the day with my niece. She is one, and cute as a button. She has big blue eyes, and fine blonde hair, and a big smile. Now, I am going to admit something to you that I normally wouldn't tell anyone. I can do this because I have a strong feeling that there are several of you who have probably done the same thing. I pretended she was mine.
I gave her breakfast and played with her for awhile. After all, I'm a stay at home mom now, right? Housework can wait. So on goes her little pink hat, and I load her up in the stroller. We walk downtown to check out a sale at one of my favorite stores. We go to the bank. You know, mom stuff. People jump to open doors at me. Other moms smile and say hello like I have joined their secret club. I smile patiently as cashiers smile and coo at her. When they ask how old she is, I respond with "13 months" just like a mom. Moms never say "a year". It has to be in months.
Living in a small town means it is nearly impossible to avoid seeing someone you know. But I manage. I avoided them like the plague. Hearing, "boy that looks good on you!" or "do you have something to tell us?" will ruin my fantasy.
I stroll home as she starts to fall asleep. I feed her lunch, and tuck her in for a nap. Then I tuck myself in for the same. (disclaimer- I am working a night shift tonight. I actually did need the nap). We both sleep for 3 hours. When I go to get her out of her play pen, the whole room has the sweet scent of baby. A smell that could never be duplicated by any spray or candle.
She snuggles in the chair with me, thumb in her mouth. Slowly she starts to wake up, and begins talking to me in her high little baby voice. I get her a snack as she follows me around the kitchen.
My husband comes home, and I smile proudly as I watch him play on the floor with her. What a good dad.
It turns out my brother and sister in law will not be able to pick her up in time before I have to leave for work, so a lady from the church agrees to come and get her. When she arrives, I have her things all packed up. She clings to me, turning her head into my shoulder, shy. I give her a kiss, telling her its ok, while giving the babysitter the usual instructions.
And then the fantasy is over. The house is quiet. The toys are gone. So is the baby smell. My husband and I look at each other, both of us feeling the emptiness.
Back to reality.