The weekend I drew this bird, I was attending the bachelorette party weekend of a college friend. We were staying at her family’s cabin and drinking wine (well, everyone except my pregnant self) and just generally having a lovely time. I woke up early and drew this bird at the kitchen counter while most of the other girls were still sleeping.
While I was drawing, the “best woman” was making breakfast one-handed with her six-month-old on her hip. After I finished the drawing, I watched her move gracefully around the kitchen, awed by her efficiency. With an impending baby on the way, I was panicking about my own readiness, and it seemed unreal that she was so sure of herself, so confident. She made it look so easy. Wide awake without coffee? One-handed cooking? Who was this domestic goddess? I finally said something dumb like, “Wow, you make it look so easy.” She looked up at me with a piercing look and said, “If you’re done drawing, you could take the baby. Or help me make coffee.”
Duh. I felt like an idiot. But as a mother now, I get it. I do. You just do it because you have to. You sling the baby (or heavy toddler) on your hip to keep her from crying and you just keep doing what needs to be done. But bystanders beware: When they say it takes a village to raise a child, what they really mean is “Get off your fat ass and help, because you still have two hands free.”