I had forgotten about this part. The part where everyone and their germ-infested brother wants to come up and breathe/touch your baby. And, Hayleigh, who is very, very social with her smiling and cooing and trying to sit up to see them better, just prolongs the contact. I think my favorite people have to be the ones who feel that they have to give advice. "It's chilly out, shouldn't she have a hat on?" Of course, I need to be light and love and represent Jesus, so I hold in what I really want to say and go for a Fantasy Island type script: "Smiles, everyone, smiles."
In addition to this, or perhaps, because of this I am developing what I like to call a "profanity problem". This is not good. Here are a few examples. Today, at Walmart when I was putting Hayleigh and her carseat into the shopping cart, I somehow managed to smash my boob in between the cart and the carseat. Don't ask. Suffice it to say, they're droopy. I actually needed to release the carseat in order to free my boob. This was painful and I muttered a short string of profanities. Of course someone was walking up beside their car and heard me. And, then there was the time a few days ago when I smashed my finger in Jaden's wheelchair. This time a loud string of profanities. If it wasn't bad enough that my children heard this, the front door was open and, since the bus stop is in our driveway, other people's children also got to hear this. So much for the light, love and representing! I'm going to work on my "profanity problem" and I'm going to work on walking faster through stores and not stopping to let people see my baby. That ought to work!