Today I visited my friend who has babies, S, who was pregnant at the same time as I was. Her youngest, E is two months older than my J. We met at University. We used to be in the same Anthropology class. I was always impressed with how organised and intelligent is. She did her second year exams shortly after giving birth to her first, M, and didn't do badly either. Unfortunately she is not exactly local. The journey involved two buses and took 1hr 45.
I was a bit surprised when I got on the bus at Golders Green, on finding another pushchair was parked in the buggy area, to be told by the mother "I can't move it." Anyway I managed somehow to awkwardly wedge J's pushchair in, and made myself feel better by thinking nasty thoughts about this nother with her 'born to drink' t-shirt and incredibly ugly little baby. On the whole I enjoyed the bus journey. As J slept, I took the rare opportunity to read my book, Kafka on the Shore, by Hanuki Murukami.
Also, when the 'born to drink' mother exited with her massive travel system, I sat down and shortly afterwards a woman with long curly hair sat next to me. After peering over at J and looking straight at me she said "Is that your baby?" and then when I replied yes, "How old are you?" When I answered she smiled, and said that she had been about the same age when she had had her son. She said it was great having a baby young, having so much energy (?), and the fact that now she was not yet forty and her 'child' was almost grown up. It was nice to hear something positive about being a young mother, in place of the usual mix of disapproval/ pity.
These little interactions remind me why I used to enjoy bus travel so much.
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