Remember when?
Remember when… It was our little pod: me, you, Colton? We woke up in the mornings, walked Chata down the street, went to the park. We switched between St. Catherine’s Park on 68th and 1st and the water park on York and 76th, close to the East River. We would wait in line, sometimes for 30 minutes, to push you on the swings in the park. I’d put your little legs on one side of the baby swing and Colton’s little legs on the other. When our minute and a half of swinging time was up, the very aggressive nannies would push towards me, clearly indicating they believed our time on the swings was up. I was one of the few moms in the park, amidst the sea of nannies. I was definitely the most horrendous looking one, probably wearing the same outfit for the third day in a row, bags under my eyes from exhaustion of caring for two small children and a surgical resident by myself. Most of the nannies loved their babies as much, or more, than the mothers who bore them. Some….when I saw the m
