After an exhausting Friday, I thought I'd enjoy a relaxing mani-pedi before dinner. I've neglected my nails for too long, mainly because they take light years to dry and mostly because I can't seem to find the free time to give the issue attention. And I brought Emma along. Mainly for the company and as a reward to her strong responsibility and mostly to show her that women do need to stop every now and then to care for themselves.
A dear friend introduced me to a comedian who does a bit on nail salons and I find myself chuckling remembering her imitation of true life. At one point during the visit, the gentleman working on Emma's toes asked me how many children I have. I mouthed "five"...... I've learned to quiet my voice and say it slowly, almost wanting to cover my mouth so the questioners' shocked expression is less jaunting. It doesn't matter how many times I am asked this question, I STILL brace myself for the reaction.
Yes, I have five children. Yes, five. That's right, you heard me correctly. F-I-V-E
The only time I realize what a huge responsibility FIVE children is when I'm asked how many children I have. Going to the grocery for seven people isn't a big deal. Buying movie tickets for seven people, no big deal (we go on the $5 admission nights or to a matinee). Traveling across the country with seven people doesn't even make me blink. But ask me how many children I have and the enormous weight of what I must do daily comes crashing around me.
So, I answer the gentleman's question and try not to make eye contact with the other nail technicians who are now open-mouthed and gawking. "You look so young!" I am young (or at least I feel young), but my answer hasn't changed. It's still FIVE.
My children see me parent with ease and with difficulty every day. My favorite phrase "I DON'T WANT TO PARENT THIS!" can be heard about once a week. They know my tricks, my strategies (which they too often try to circumvent, but I'm proud of their problem solving skills that will benefit them later in life), my struggles, my frustrations, my weaknesses and my strong qualities. What I try not to show them are the moments of hitting the bottom, of feeling lost or out-of-control.
As we prepare to send two teenagers out into the world in the next few years, I have come to realize they NEED to see the bottom. OK, through foggy, grimy glasses, but seen nonetheless, so they can understand the concept of putting one foot in front of the other while discerning solutions.
I didn't necessarily have an issue that needed solving last night, but I wanted Emma to experience a mom's rejuvenation process. I wanted her to see WHY I was there and HOW I would feel during and after. When she is a mom, she will need her own emotional road map. She has a great foundation now, that began when she entered school at age 4 as a high maintenance, vibrant, spirited little girl who required warm baths and a book to calm herself from the day. Her road map has the major highways, a few country roads and an a legend that's 3/4 of the way filled in.
Her road map now has an additional gas station: the nail salon.
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