When I returned home from picking up the children, there was an older lady outside my house, pushing a baby in a pram, up and down the road. I smiled and she spoke. I let the children in to the house and went over the road to talk to her, and my goodness, how she needed to talk.
Her daughter, who lives not far away, had just had her first baby and the lady I was speaking to was the mum, come to do her bit for her daughter. But it wasn't going well. Her daughter hadn't slept for nights, was short tempered and upset. Gosh we've all been there! Dealing with the first new born certainly didn't come naturally to me, it was absolute hell for a good two months or more until I learnt to be a mother, less important, more giving, sacrificing all you crave for for a tiny little bundle.
She was distressed, this other mum, the one who had come such a long way to pick up the pieces. It was all so different in her day: "We always put the baby on its tummy" She said "Now you have to lie them on their backs, what happens if they're sick?"
She was in that awful position of trying to keep all her 'outdated' knowledge to herself, trying to keep the piece, trying not to interfere but wanting so much to help. She was a long way from home with no one to talk to.
So she talked to me, for ages! I listened, remembering how difficult it was, knowing that it would get easier, and that her daughter would become closer to her mum in consequence, realising that one day I may be in her shoes if Tall Girl 'produces', knowing that everything takes time.
As she left she thanked me for listening. She looked a bit better and I wished her luck.
Today I hope I gave a bit back, it felt good.