You are a Mom. You are a baby.
And you thought growing up into a mother would make you less of a kid. Tough luck there!
I am my mother's youngest child. She had me when she was 45. I had my baby when I was 27 and am exhausted by parenting already at 32! Where did this woman get the strength to bring a baby into the world at 45 I wonder. And oh, I forgot - I was baby number seven. I ask my Mom sometimes, "Why? Why did you do it". She is totally dismissive of the question - like any doubts never occurred to her.
Now in her late 70's she claims to be tired. I would be surprised if it were otherwise! But that doesn't stop her from pressing on. Each phone call is an exhaustive newsletter of which child and grandchild of hers is doing what. She and my Dad still get into elaborate machinations when any one of us even remotely needs any help. And here I am looking forward to the day Kidlet passes out of college and gets a job.
I look at her and I wonder why people stick on to this parenting gig. Heaven knows it gets a lot of flak. You are constantly under scrutiny and not to mention are second guessing every decision you make. To top that, every one of your child's heartaches becomes your own. And there are new things to learn every step of the way - theres nary a let-up! But here we are, my Mom and I - trudging on with a commitment we made to that one little heartbeat that decided to leap into our world.
My name is Nidhi. I am my baby's Mom and I am my Mom's baby. And I am proud and happy that I can claim to be both - oh wait I need to answer that missed call, before we get all panicky again ;)