I was never so lucky.
I’m still not. I’m a woman who’s almost in her thirties and still gives far too much thought to what other people think of her. Whether it’s my outfit, my hair, if I look fat, if I seem approachable, if I’m friendly.
Do I do enough?
Do I deserve my husband?
All are things I’ve heard in hushed tones around me at one point or another and all things that pang in my chest like a bullet piercing through armor.
We all have our things that make us feel vulnerable or things that fuel our self-doubt. Mine happens to be my very existence. It always has been. Especially when I was in high school.
While I still care, I think it’s lessened because I rarely interact with other adults, and I’m just far too tired to give it all of my energy like high school Leslie did.
While before I’d spend hours picking out just the right outfit that both looked good and was considered trendy, but not too trendy, now I change my outfit until I find something that I don't feel like a cow in. And even then, compared to the gym moms, I feel huge and out of place while I wait to pick up the kids from school.
What other people think of me is still something I let run my life. It’s why I’m in the PTA, why I sign up to be class mom, why I bring the oranges to soccer practice. The way people perceive me is important to me for some reason I can’t fathom.
I think it falls back to the perfection thing. Somehow, it’s the definition I was given. And for some reason instead of feeling like I could shatter everybody’s views, I felt like I needed to live up to that.
It’s part of why I think Trent fell in love with me. He’d heard about the “perfect sophomore” who was pretty and got good grades and had her shit together. It wasn’t until he was deep in it that he learned none of that was actually true.
Sure, I was pretty and got good grades, but I studied hard and was far from having my shit together. Now, it’s even worse.
The looks have faded. The perfection is a mirage, an act. Becca sees me at my worst, my least put together. She’s been over when we all had the stomach bug, right after I birthed Charlie, and a million other times where she’s seen me at a lowest of low. She knows I’m not perfect, but she still likes to say that I am.
It can be infuriating at times. Even the girls tell me I’m the perfect mom. Granted they have no idea what that actually means and almost every child idolizes their parents, but it just grates on me every time that word is spoken in relation to me.
My kids? Go for it. Theyareperfect. My husband? Sure, he’s pretty damn close. But in regards to me and anything having to do with me, it’s not reality. It’s a fictionalized tale that I’ve somehow continued to weave for years and years.
The only question is when will the story end. And how?
Chaper 10
“So,we’llprobablyleavesometime around one.” Becca’s standing across from me at the kitchen island while I go over our plans for the weekend. We still have three weeks until the big day, but I need her prepped.
It’s not like she’s never watched the kids before, it just makes me anxious as hell to leave them with anybody except Trent. And even when I leave them with him, their fully capable and loving father, anxiety bubbles in my stomach.
“Alright, that sounds fine.”
“Are you sure? That’s probably at least twenty-four hours you’ll have the kids.” I chew my lip and fiddle my pen against the notepad in front of me.
“I’m positive.” Becca reaches out and closes her hand over mine, squeezing tightly. “Trust me, we’ll be fine. Your kids are fucking angels.”
I’m about to tell her to watch her mouth when I remember that the kids aren’t here. I try my damndest not to curse in front of them but fail most of the time. Trent is way better at it than I am and often scolds me. But others are certainly asked to mind their tongue. And that includes my best friend.
A quick glance at the clock and I see we have about an hour left. Plenty of time to finish going over this information and then have a cup of coffee and gossip.
“Well, despite the fact that they behave for you, there’s some things you need to know. Charlie is newly night trained, but I’ll pack pull ups for him anyway. Make him wear them and have him pee before bed.”
“I don’t mind changing an accident, Les.”
“Just make your life easier and have him wear it. And make sure youseeJessica brush her teeth. She’s been trying to get away with not doing it lately and telling us that she has. Little stinker is turning into a liar far too early.” I always thought that didn’t happen until high school when the kids wanted money from both parents.
At least that’s what I did.
“Okay. And what about Kendall?”
“She’ll be your perfect angel, but she’s been having some trouble falling asleep lately. The other night Trent read her four books and thenhefell asleep. I went to check on them and he was passed out with a book on his chest. She was reading something else quietly.”
