Good Old Popeye

When my 12 year old daughter was little she always lamented the fact that I am not a "high heels Mom". I think one of the reasons she loves Easter so much is because it ups the odds that I may wear heels. There was a time when I wore heels and dresses, big hair and a lot more make up; but those days are mostly found in various photo albums from the 80's. You know the ones with the sticky back pages that yellow over time? Don't worry this isn't about yellowing! Anyway, I know that while she still wishes I was a high heels Mom from time to time she loves me for the Birkenstock, jeans and and light coating of foundation Mom that I am. I love all of the kinds of Mom's there are. The Birkies like me, the high heels, the ponytail and track suits, the housecoats (retro Mom's), the Zen Moms, the worried ones, all of them.

You know what I don't love? Any moment that I have spent in judgement of my sister Mothers (this should be a TLC reality show). Mom's who happen to be reading this, you know what I mean. I am ashamed to admit that there was a time when I judged the really well put together Moms. These Mom's are typically found in the high heels and ponytail categories. I would think how the HELL are they doing the mother thing well and still look that GOOD? It was a dark period for me I can assure you. I know I am not alone. I know that there is that mythic maternal goddess who has 5 children, is a neurosurgeon, keeps an immaculate house, is solving the local homeless problem and  has home schooled her brood to successful admission into Harvard. She is also relentlessly happy and has amazing teeth (I may want to seek the help of a professional about my emerging "teeth issue"). This woman is a fictional character but she sure is powerful. She causes us to be suspicious of one another. She is at the root of every doubt you have ever felt about your motherhood, your household, your career choice (in or out of the home). When you judge another mother based on trivialities such as household clutter, bad hair, or the wearing of flats think of her; then think again. We are all in this together. I have yet to meet another Mom who I haven't learned something from. I caution you to avoid Pinterest. I have found that the mythic maternal goddess has been extra busy over there!!!

So here's the thing, in thinking about the Mom I am; I find a role model in Popeye the Sailor Man. I enjoy spinach, I am extremely powerful when it comes to defending my loved ones and I am pretty darn comfortable in my Birkenstocks. I yam what I yam! Also, I find that I mumble incoherently under  my breath but perhaps I have taken the Popeye imagery far enough.

If You're Not Whitening You're Yellowing

I don't pay a lot of attention to television commercials but this one really disturbed  me. Have you seen it? The toothpaste commercial that tells you with an undertone of disgust, "if you're not whitening, you're yellowing". Really? Isn't good dental hygiene enough anymore? Whatever happened to brush after meals and use dental floss? Whatever happened to the value inherent in being minty fresh? I guess it's the turning 50 thing or maybe my tolerance level for the ridiculous has been lowered or maybe it's both.

I am of the Catholic persuasion. One of  my favorite parts of Mass is watching all of the different people lining up to receive Communion. The old and the young, the big and the small, the whole gamut. I will be honest with you, I sometimes well up during these precious moments. I well up because I get such a sense of the familial relationship we share. That sense of family isn't necessarily a faith based thing. I have it when I am on Facebook, at work, at my kid's school events even at the local grocery store. We are all in this together, like it or not. Yellow or not!

 Back in December, I  made a momentous decision. I decided to stop coloring my hair. I had my first gray hair in noticeable quantity when I was 16 years old. I have been coloring it for so long  I have no idea what my real hair color was or more importantly, is. In December I decided to find out. My hair grows relatively fast so by Christmas time there was a fairly clear line between the old me and the new  me. It was odd, I felt compelled to tell people what I was doing. I didn't want them to think I had "just let my hair go". The more skunk like I became the more I wanted to have a t-shirt made declaring, "I'm growing my gray out DAMMIT!" Of course this could all be in my head but I could see eyes quickly drifting up to my hair and then back down. Why did I care? Why do I care? Does the color of my hair or my teeth make any difference in who I am? Evidently it must.

I have always struggled with my weight so it's not like I am unused to the judgemental eyes of others, so why the heck does this matter???  This is the question I am currently struggling with. I envision myself as a self assured woman who lives life on her own terms. However, the gray hair has opened up an unexpected opportunity for reflection.  Have I mentioned I am not so good with the reflecting thing? I am more of the "I'm fine" tribe.

So here is my question for you if you would be generous enough to share, "How have you dealt with similar issues in your own life?"

So it's 2013 and I figured I'd jump on the blog bandwagon. I like the idea of writing without any expectations or deadlines. Clearly I have commitment issues. Actually, this is just ingrained behavior because I am a wife,  mother and preschool teacher and almost all of my daily tasks are meant to be done over and over and over. You'd think with all of this practice I'd be AWESOME. I have found that I have gotten quite complacent of late and perhaps writing this will help.