Before you get your undies in a bunch, it was only for 11 days. But you’d think it was forever with the amount of undie-bunching I caused when I told people I was leaving my family to fend for themselves while I vacationed in Europe alone last year for 11 glorious days.

I never thought that mall walking could send me into a frenzy of existential self-reflection, but to be fair, there’s a lot of things that surprise me these days.

I think every mom has their own unique post-partum M.O. For me, those first couple of raw weeks after the birth are mostly characterized by one thing: despair. Flat out sadness and overwhelm, with the unshakable feeling that I’ve made a giant mistake.

It was horrifying. Those were words I texted to another mom about my first clothes shopping experience 11 weeks post-partum with my second baby.

The name I wasn’t really prepared for, that would feel more special and meaningful than any other name, was becoming “mom.”

The thing is, I still feel uncomfortable around other people’s kids. Especially random ones, and particularly those we meet on the playground.