Doug and I went to dinner on Saturday with a friend to meet his new girlfriend. I was a little apprehensive to say the least. Here I am, 34 weeks pregnant, big as a house, and not feeling my best. All I know about this woman is basically how gorgeous she is. I know Jason’s standards, and let’s just say, Jason and I would never date. He’s a great guy, but I know I wouldn’t make the cut. Hell, I don’t know anyone that would. Knowing this is a little daunting. So I did my makeup as good as I could manage. I bought a new outfit. I had to ice my ankles to get my sausage feet into my shoes. I heaved myself into the car, took a deep breath and braced myself.
I was right about one thing. Beautiful is probably how she wakes up and then we go from there. Tall, skinny and gorgeous (even Doug noticed – and for me to see him notice means he really noticed. He did have the good sense to down-play it though). In shoes I would love if my swollen ankles could support me in them. The real kicker was how absolutely nice she was. I mean really nice. Genuinely make-your-teeth-hurt nice! We actually have the same home town and know a lot of the same places so that helped. The whole night was easy and fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone who knew and understood the awesomeness that is dry cleaned jeans. (If you’ve never worn dry cleaned jeans, you’re totally missing out)
Here’s the surprising part. When talking about the girls and being home I wasn’t really self conscious about it. While being home with the girls was an easy decision it’s one that I frequently feel the need to defend. I don’t have a career. I’ve never had a career. I’ve been a wife and a mother before I graduated from high school. I’ve been married for 15 years (cumulative). While I have worked form time to time it’s not something I’ve dedicated a lot of time to. I see the detriment to it sometimes. When I know that it wouldn’t be worth it financially for me to go back to work. I watch my friends get degrees and promotions that I may never see. It can be hard. Sometimes it feels like the working world is passing me by. But I look at what I do and am proud of my children. I am proud of my family and my husband. I am proud of the part I play in helping it all run as smoothly as possible. I’m not always good at it but I do try. Lately most days are harder than I like, but I’m secure in my choice. I don’t know what it was about Saturday that clicked. I wish I could figure it out and hold onto it. Because truthfully I’m not feeling as secure today as I did then. But it was a good feeling. It was good to not feel as if I was some frumpy housewife. It was good to feel like I was actually contributing something to someone.
It’s good to have those days. And I’m glad to have had that time. To eat a good meal, to have great conversation and camaraderie and to feel like a grown up (and not just a mom) for a brief amount of time was what I needed.