A whole new woman.

Me, Felix, and Jackson Pollock Number 12.

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.

She never existed before.

The woman existed, but the mother - never.

A mother is something absolutely new."

That beautiful quote was written in one of my birthday cards.  It's so true.  Lately, I feel like a whole new person...  which can be beautiful and scary at the same time.

I'm an optimist.  So is my husband.  The fact that we both are leads to us being perpetually late, broke, happy people.   We always think we have more time and more money than we actually do.  The happiness... that's real though.  I'm glad we're optimists (that's probably redundant), but - for me - the downfall is that I constantly take on more than I can want to handle.  And I usually do it with a smile on my face.  As I look around, I sense that we all (women, mothers, wives, girlfriends) probably do.

For example, if I put Felix in the swing when he's crying there is this pang of guilt that feels like I'm cheating.  Like if I just rocked him more, or held him closer, or wasn't too tired to walk him around the house a few thousand more times - he'd fall peacefully back to sleep.  It's that same pang that makes new moms go without a manicure, a cup of coffee, or even a shower.

Now, as I said - I'm an optimist.  But if I wasn't an optimist, I'd be the spokesperson for postpartum depression.  I'd been under a hazy baby induced coma since Felix was born.  Maybe it's the lack of sleep, showers, and sunshine... but being a new mom can be filled with a quiet sadness that is unexplainable.  Maybe you're mourning the loss of your former self - because now you're a new woman.  You're a mom.

But fear not, mothers-to-be out there.  One day, something clicks... and you realize that your former self is not gone and forgotten.  In fact, it's better than ever.  For me, that day was Tuesday.

Shannon, Anne, and I - with babes - a few
days prior at a cool little mama collective
meeting on Main Street, Catskill.

Fueled by optimism, I met my girlfriends Anne & Shannon at Anne's place in Center Square.  Anne is my sistah-mama... we were pregnant at the same time, working in the same restaurant, and eventually birthing boys only two weeks apart.  Shannon is my sistah-in-law-mama... watching her mother my beautiful niece Maeve has helped me learn the ropes.  We decided that we three moms would take our three babes in our three jogging strollers down to the New York State Museum and Concourse for an afternoon indoor walk - since its barely been above freezing since Felix was born.

It sounds simple.  But all three of the babies were exceptional that day.  Felix and August snoozed peacefully in their strollers and Maeve quietly people watched as we three hens got decaffeinated lattes at the Starbucks under the Empire State Plaza.  We wheeled through my favorite Albany art collection.  Clucking gleefully by Rothko, Frankenthaler, and Kline.  We took turns reading the informational placards and shared our limited art history knowledge on our favorite pieces...  mine, Jackson Pollock's.  I love "action painting."  I love it's energy.  In a way, it too is optimistic.  Without thought, the artist just creates, knowing that no matter what flows - it is art, and that was its only intention.

The three angels.

While there was still sunlight, we left the museum.  Just a few short hours.  But I felt reborn.

Maybe it was the art.  Maybe it was the company.  Maybe it was just the fact that Felix slept for more than two hours at a time.

I needed that day to realize that I can be a mother and a Carly.