the shoe patch

a friend of mine recently said that God made our children with our weaknesses in mind. i'm sure that's true in many ways, but one in particular stands out to me... maybe because it's an every-day occurrence here in our house.

i tend to be very absent-minded and distracted most of the time... especially when it comes to misplacing things. in particular, my keys. i can never, ever remember where i set my keys down. in fact, my entire adult life i've given myself a ten-minute-key-finding-time allowance as part of my daily routine. my son however is quite attentive to detail and always knows where everything is...everything. so naturally, i've learned to ask him as we're heading out the door where i put my keys, and he will either go get them, or tell me where they are. it's fantastic! so much better than one of those key chains that beep when you whistle.

among the many other things i misplace are my shoes... also at the top of that list. however, i've found that i usually kick them off under my desk or in front of the bookcase as i walk in. usually. this story has a point, i promise. so the other day, i'm searching for my shoes and i call on the services of my little finder.

me: "z, do you know where mommies shoes are?"

z: "no, did you check your shoe patch?"

and that is how my closet became known as the shoe patch.

The Mob... and other stuff

I got stopped by The Mob earlier this week… let me back up.

There’s a group of moms that stand outside z’s school every morning. They’re your stereo-typical private-school-moms. They stand in the parking lot in their Ann Taylor capri’s and LL Bean trench coats, gabbing about who knows what… I can only assume it’s about how wonderful their husbands are. I’ve affectionately named them The Mob.

Every day for the past four months I walk past them, trying my best to not make eye contact. Even so, I find myself intrigued. This whole mom-thing is such a challenge for me, and I wonder what it must be like to be one of the “super-moms”. I love being a mom, and have experienced nothing greater in my life… but know sometimes I'm not that good at it. I crack under stress and pressure... struggle with finances and time, or more so the lack there of. I find myself wondering what it must be like to have nothing to do all day… other than chauffeur my children to school, soccer, and ballet... in a leather interior Excursion with decals on the back that say Caleb and Skyler.

Anyway… back to my story…

On my way back to my car, passing by The Mob, I felt a pair of eyes staring at me. I look over and make eye contact. I smile, she smiles back. I’m thinking to myself… ‘crap, I don’t have my sunglasses on and I think she saw me?’ … then she reaches out and touches my arm. ‘oh no… what? What do they want with me? Am I about to be recruited to decorate the cafeteria?’

Then she says, “You have the most beautiful skin. It’s like a porcelain doll, and we want to know what you use.”

“oh!” … “um... noxema,” I say.

As they chatter amongst themselves... I nervously look away then back, smiling. ‘Could that be all? Are they done with me? Can I go?’

“do you wear makeup”… one of them asks.

“yeah, sometimes,” I reply. ‘Is this friendly fire?’ … asking myself as I look around at their skin, hair, nails, eyes… contemplating whether or not to respond with compliments, I choose to say nothing.

“My husband would be mortified if he saw me dressed like this, but sometimes I just don’t feel like getting showered and dressed in the morning.” She looked cute to me, but what do I know. Well, I know she had a Louis Vuitton handbag…

Anyway… back to my story.

“I really need to get back to work” … I say nervously, and duck away.

Letting out a big sigh as I start my car, ‘that was torture’, I think to myself.

However the drive back to my real life was pretty thought provoking.

The past few years have been rough, but have I become so completely jaded that I’m now the person that judges others? Judges others for no reason? Am I THAT person? The truth is, I don’t know. But I don’t like it.

Nothing thrills me more than driving my son to school while he sings along to Bob and Larry’s Sunday Morning Songs. And part of me sometimes wants to be one of those moms with nothing better to do than chauffeur my kids around. But, I’m a career mom. I love my work, and I love the people I work for. My career is not only essential for survival, but it’s a part of who I am. I’m very lucky to get to balance the career/mom lifestyle. Sometimes, I just wish I knew how to do it better.