This Sure is the Good Life We're Livin'

It's been a long day, and I am at the end of my rope.  I still need to stop at Publix, and we have the drive from Mt. Pleasant to our house across town ahead of us.  I feel like a spaz- I feel weary- sure I look tired and unorganized to anyone I pass.

As we leave Hannah's Occupational Therapy appointment, we approach the elevator- me pushing the stoller with Wyatt unwilling to be pushed on my hip, my enormous diaper bag on one shoulder and Hannah at my side. We are met by a tall, slender blonde wearing a form fitting pencil skirt with a business style blouse perfectly pressed. I quickly note her red bottom shoes, also known as Louis Vuitton. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a pair of red bottom shoes.  Her hair is smooth, and her smile is sweet as we approach.  I don't think there was a flaw on her-she looked perfect, pulling behind her, a small case-I decide she is a pharmesutical sales rep.  I think of the ease and status associated with such a career- I think of what life would be like if I had decided to follow a career.

She makes polite small talk with us as we enter the elevator. The doors close, and I am left with the reflections of 2 women- both in their early thirties- with completely different lives, or so I presume.

I study the beautiful rep.  She isn't wearing a wedding ring.  In my imagination, she will pull away in her company-paid-for Acura after sending a few texts finalizing plans for sushi and drinks with friends. Her condo with a view awaits her as she runs in to freshen up from a day of work and to slide into designer jeans- everything inside her home perfectly in place. No laundry over flowing.  No dishes in the sink.  No homework left undone or toys to trip over.

I then look at myself- giving due credit. I am certainly not unfortunate looking.  I notice my hair could use a brush, though, thanks to the pace of the day and Wyatt grabbing for my sunglasses on top of my head.  I think how I am thankful on this particular morning, I found the time to straighten my hair- the carefree look is nice for those who are actually carefree- my personality doesn't match the beachy waves my hair falls to when diapers, bottles, and early mornings don't allow for more. I scan down- my pre baby body is, mostly, back but my style has changed.  My heals are retired for now, and my shirts smell of spit up.  That morning, I quickly grabbed the most comfortable jeans I could find. In the moment I look down to notice how badly I need a pedicure, Wyatt spits-up- I catch it in my hand and wipe it on my jeans. Did she just look at me with pity? Wyatt throws down his sippy cup.  Hannah picks it up for me. I wonder what this woman was making of my life in these moments.

The home awaiting me has a view of middle class suburbia. There will be no drinks and sushi tonight. Instead, I will face piles of laundry, dirty dishes, undone homework. I will pick up toys, cook dinner, and give baths. I am tired.

For the smallest second.  A second I am deeply ashamed of....I was jealous of her. Jealous of her life. Jealous that there were no tired circles under her eyes. Jealous her clothes looked neat and did not smell of spit up. Jealous, oh so jealous, of those red bottom shoes. Jealous of the life I created for her in my mind.

I think of that woman the entire ride home. I am embarrassed to admit, I fantasized what my life would be life like if Brian and I owned a condo with a view, and I had a career that warranted pencil skirts and sexy tops.

I get home to the mail---oh, the reality that is in the mail. Bills.  Discount ads.  Life.  Real life.

Wyatt screams as I place him on the living room floor in order to try and get Hannah's homework finished and dinner started.  I just need a break. 


I consider going to hide in my bedroom when...

The greatest part of the day arrives, and I hear the garage door go up signaling the greatest part of me is home.  As he walks in the door, I forget all about the woman. My heart overflows as he immediately picks up the screaming baby from the floor, kisses Hannah and walks over to place his arms around me. I realize there is no other life I could ever want. Not even the fantasy life I created for the beautiful rep.

There are moments I am tired. Moments when I wonder what life with 2 incomes would be like.
Moments when I forget I am a woman and feel like nothing but a mom. Moments where I want to scream because my inner perfectionist can't handle the mess that is life with kids.  Moments where I need to get out on the town and feel like a woman...just a woman, not mommy.

But. . .

There is no greater joy than being Wyatt and Hannah's mommy. I am reminded I am beautiful to them when my hair is a mess and my clothes are rumpled from a busy day. One day, I will miss the toys that clutter the house, and I will ache for the days of bedtime routine.  The Lord picked me for this very special role.  The status is greater than any career I could pursue, and the rewards are far more than red bottom shoes.

There will be days, I will briefly envy the woman in the elevator, but I am exactly where I'm
supposed to be- exactly where I want to be....

The next day, I let my hair flow natural, and I embrace every moment loving my two precious gifts forgetting the stresses, ignoring the mess.....