Of age

In a blink of an eye, Jilliane is now 13 months. In case you have not noticed, I've changed her ticker on the left side of my blog to remind me her age as she grows. I've a tendency of not being able to remember ages in small fractions. Like when I was pregnant, I had to write the no. of weeks at the side of my calendar to remind myself at what stage of pregnancy I was. Somehow when the no. goes past 15, I lose track. When baby girl was just born, we were counting in weeks too and after a while I just couldn't remember how many weeks was she and I figured that I will just stick to months. Soon, I'll have to change months to years. I just hope that I can remember years. I do not know if it's being a mother that I sometimes can't even remember my own age or is it more a self denial issue. When people ask me how old I am, I will go.. er.. I'm born in 19xx, then I will do a quick mental sum to subtract my year of birth from the current year we are in, eg: 2009 - 19xx, and there... that's how young I am!

Since I'm on the topic of age, I'll share with you a conversation I overheard on my return flight from Perth between 2 mothers who were seated on the same row as me.

Mother A: Your son's really cute, how old is he?

Mother B: He's 17 months. How old's your daughter?

Mother A: She's 22 months.

Mother B: Oh, almost 2 years!

Mother A: No, 22 months.

Mother B: That's almost 2 years.

Mother A: No, she's 22 months.

Mother B: Er... ok, she's 22 months.