A mini-rant and adventures in mom-identity

I was going to write an entry complaining about the peripheral men in my life, but I'm not sure it would do any good for anybody. Let it just be known that the following annoy me:

1. Men (both former love interests and not) who claimed to want to be my friends, and were in fact good friends of mine, until I got pregnant. There are so-called "friends" that I literally have not heard from since they found out I was having a baby, over a year ago. And others I hear from on occasion but who really haven't talked to me much since then.
   
2. There are a few older married men whom I idly talk to online (I frequent yahoo chat, for some stupid reason). These are men in their 40s who have become bored with their wives and think that even though they are fat and bald, young women like me are going to be inexplicably drawn to them and flirt with them. Here's a hint: No. Even before I was happily married, I was never interested in older men.
   
3. Men (again, from yahoo chat, sometimes they also fall into category 2) who try to tell me that I married/had a baby too young and my marriage is going to fail, and/or my life will no longer be fulfilling. I don't even feel the need to justify my decisions here.
   

Okay, that kind of ended up being a rant regardless, but trust me, it was only a fraction of the rant I gave Anthony the other night. I should clarify that I was ranting to him about other people; he's exempt from my "men suck" rants.

Anyway, I wanted to write about my Sunday, which was a novel experience for me. I had to go to Manhattan to take a test for the job I may-or-may-not have. The test was about 4 hours long, so I was obligated to leave the baby with Anthony for longer than I ever have before. He went to Manhattan with me to find the place, and I had time to get some last-minute coffee and feed the baby before I went to the test center. The test started around 10. At noon I had a break, called home, baby was sleeping and all was well. I left the place around quarter to 2, and purposefully did not call home before hopping on the train. If the baby was upset, I didn't want to know. I called when I got off the train, a few blocks from home, and Anthony was noticably less chipper than when I called the first time. Téa had cried herself to sleep, after eating a decent amount of cereal. Not a huge deal; she cries when I'm home as well. When I got home, she woke up, looked at me, and calmly (not ravenously, as I expected) ate when I offered her the boob. She wasn't traumatized and she didn't starve. All in all it went quite well.

What struck me most about the whole experience was how surreal it was to be out and about without the baby. While interacting with and looking at the people around me, I kept thinking: "No one here knows I'm a mom." My motherhood has become such a part of my identity, I almost didn't know what to do with myself without it. I felt vulnerable, but free at the same time. I kept being afraid that someone would hit on me. This wasn't just me being conceited; before I got pregnant (and even while I was pregnant, oddly enough), I got hit on a lot. Of course, with a squirmy baby strapped to me, men pretty much avoid me. But without her there, I felt unprotected-- to a stranger, I was just a young, single woman alone in the city. Fortunately I kept my head down enough so that no one talked to me.

The freedom felt nice. I felt so light, figuratively and literally: It's much easier to get around without 15lbs of baby and however much of her stuff I've got to carry. I kept feeling like I was leaving something behind, and looked back at my train seat as I got up at my stop: "What am I forgetting? Oh right, I don't have Téa with me. I just brought my purse."

Yesterday Anthony worked from home, and I left the baby with him while I went to do laundry. I couldn't believe how much easier that was without the baby! Just walking there and back with the bags of laundry in my cart was easier. I could freely move laundry in and out of the machines without the obstacle of the baby strapped to my chest. It went so much faster and I didn't feel like my arms were going to fall off when I got home. I think I need to do laundry sans-Téa from now on (until she can walk, I guess).

Lastly, I just got my test results back. I gotta retake part of it. Didn't do too shabbily though, for my circumstances. I couldn't study for it until it was almost too late, and got VERY little sleep the night before. Guess who's to blame for both those things? Hint: she's teething and I'm about to change her dirty little butt.