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.
9 comments:
You do have beautiful skin.
As Z gets into elementary school and you begin mingling with all the other moms (and dads) at their school functions you'll get less nervous. I was so nervous when Grace was in her first years of school because I didn't want to have to answer the questions about "what does your husband do" and "who do you use for your home remodeling or landscaping" and "where does Grace take dance/cheer/soccer/violin/acting/fencing/oil painting/bagpipe/interior design/opera/pre-med classes?" Once they found out a little about me, and that it's just me and Grace, and that I probably wouldn't be the ideal guest for you and your husband to invite to your latest dinner party and that's really okay, they ended up admiring the fact that I was doing this on my own and I was doing a dang good job of it. I realized that yes, there are the real witch moms, but they're few and far between. Most of the moms, whether they had tons of money or none (like me) were really nice and helpful. Now I don't get nervous about meeting them at all and enjoy volunteering and doing stuff with Grace's classes.
But I was afraid of the super moms at first, too.
You're a great mom. Don't sweat it. And enjoy the good feeling that porcelain doll compliment gave you.
thanks steph. i hadn't really thought about them accepting us for who we are. i guess even at 32 i'm still just trying to fit in.
sigh.
thanks for the inspiration to be who i am... and be okay with it. :)
You sound like the inside of my perpetually insecure brain. I sometimes wonder how old I will be when I finally stop worrying about what other people think of me. I tell myself that I don't care because it is easier to be emotionally detached from the perceived judgement than to stop and think about who it is that is judging who. Now I am rambling. Just know that I think that you are great just the way that you are. And I am right there with you on the balance issue. I love my job but I love my kids more. Finding room for all of it minus the guilt is sure challenging.
Oh Carrie.
In my eyes YOU are the definition of "Super Mom"
You love Z SO much, and it is so evident. He is your world. You may have more to do than chaffeur him around, but that is what makes you a super mom.
Anyone can drive kids around to ballet/acting/soccer, etc.
Not everyone can be a MOM.
I don't think we ever quit caring what they think, but we can work to get to the point that it doesn't matter as much.
I hope I am as excellent a mother as you are some day.
kristen - i'm glad i'm not alone. i can always count on you to make me feel better.
julie - what can i say, you make me cry. thank you for such a vote of confidence. :)
Carrie,
I wrote about three long comments and deleted them all. I can't stand to sound sanctimonious, and I'm afraid that's what I'll do.
I agree with everyone here. Like Steph says, you'll hit your groove with time. (I think that some of this might be that you see these women at a private school. Big Sis went to a private school, and I saw more of it there than I do at the public school.) But even having said that, eh? When I notice that I'm focusing on what others MIGHT be thinking about me, or MIGHT be saying, I have to pause and pull myself back. It's not about them. It's about me. Me being comfortable with me. (I've had to work REALLY hard on this.)
Oh, and another thing. I had a friend who once told me that God made my children with my weaknesses in mind. He designed us as a unit so that they would be strengthened by my weaknesses. What joy! Carrie, I'm gonna have the strongest kids on the planet!
;-)
Here, I'll stop babbling. I've had this song on my brain for several days now. I think you might like it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yldJ2XAZYNE
Ahhh, Pinky I love that song. That Paula Cole CD has been one of my favorites for years.
you don't have to worry about sounding sanctimonius here pinkster... not even sure i know what it means. ;)
thanks for the song... it's now on my playlist.
That cd...is a WILD WOMAN cd if ever I heard one. ;-)
I think Steph is a wild woman.
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