Early last week I had this sudden realization that I am a “mom”.

Yeah, I know. Abby is 22 months old. You would think this would have hit me earlier than now.

It’s not that I didn’t know I had a baby/toddler. It’s not that no-one has ever referred to me as a mom (one of the kids at Abby’s daycare calls me “Abby’s mom” every day, so he’s a pretty constant reminder). There’s nothing in my life that doesn’t remind me every single day that Abby is my lovely daughter.

And yet somehow, in that admitedly early hour, it felt as if the idea had just dawned on me. Maybe it wasn’t so much a realization that I am a mom, but a realization that this really is just the start. And it’s just going to get more real in two more months when I become a mom x 2.

I remember a friend commenting a few years back that she had been walking through the mall with her two kids and she suddenly realized they they were a no longer a “couple with a baby” but were a “family”. I thought it was an odd statement at the time, but I think I get it now.