My favorite way to roll.You know how mid-life-crisis-having men who drive Porsches give other mid-life-crisis-having men driving Porsches a little acknowledging wave of superiority as they pass one another on the road?
Moms have that, too. But not in flashy German sports cars. It's more like dirty running shoes, a dark pair of Old Navy jeans and a Granny Smith-colored zip-up hoodie. Official mommy-wear. Stacy and Clinton would not approve.
And, I was not out on the open road in the trusty blue minivan. Nope. I was where all the cool moms hang out in the middle of a week day: the mall.
I WAS going fast, though. On foot. Weaving in and out of the lunch-crowd left-overs. Men and women heading back to nearby offices. Meandering retired couples. Young mothers in jeans and hoodies carting little children to and fro.
I was on a mission to find socks. Before me, one stroller containing a squealing barefoot 9-month-old, one cannister of strawberry-banana puff cereal, one clip-on stuffed monkey and a purse.
Approaching me on the left-hand side, a mom. Before her, a double-stroller containing two toddlers holding two more toddlers on their laps and enough paraphenalia for six toddlers because there were two more walking alongside! I could tell they were siblings and I know she was the mom from our "wave," which actually is a smile-nod because, HELLO, our hands are full.
But in that one-second smile-nod combo was an entire conversation. It went like this:
Me: Holy CRAP!
Her: *sigh* I know.
Me: How are you even doing that?
Her: I don't know.
Me: Well, it looks like you've got everything under control. You go girl!
Her: Thank you. Enjoy having just one.
Me: I will. Thank YOU for the reality check.
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