Rosie's Mom

We live in an apartment complex with a lot of other young families.  I really enjoy seeing the other kids around at our community playground, and I appreciate the interest that many of them take in my baby daughter. 

I like to greet and converse with all of the kids as I see them, and I try hard to learn all their names. 

Apparently, though, they’re not as intent on learning mine.

“Where are you going, Rosie’s mom?” asked one 4-year-old boy on my way out one afternoon.  I responded and continued on my way; it didn’t even occur to me to inform him that I had another name. 

…I mean, not another name, a real name.

Rosie’s mom.

I think that seals it.  Any identity I once had beyond that of mother is now completely erased from existence.