It’s what’s expected of me. Or at least has become expected of me. And I have to do it without complaint because I technically do it by choice.
Though really if I had the choice, I’d be the one sending in money and gift cards instead of organizing it all. I’d rather be home with my kids and Trent right now instead of in this damn meeting.
A heavy sigh pulls from my chest as I doodle on the pad in front of me. Taking notes helps me seem organized. It also helps me not forget the intricate tiny details that aren’t important but seem to come up later on that others have forgotten. I’m not perfect for remembering, as they think. I just plan ahead and write it down for when it inevitably comes up again.
“Alright folks. That’s about it for tonight. Get home to your kids.” Deb wraps up with a smile, and I look down at my paper and realize I barely wrote a single word. That’s not going to be good when somebody turns to me next week with a question. But really, what does it matter. PTA is almost over for the year.
I stand to leave and gather my things, but Deb grabs my elbow.
“What’s up? You seem out of sorts.” One thing about Deb is that she’s very observant.
Though I wouldn’t really consider her a close friend, there’s no reason not to share. Besides, we’re very much one and the same. Maybe she’ll understand my feelings. “I have a reunion next week and I’m dreading it. So, I’m kind of stuck in my head about it all.” There’s defeat to my tone as I express what’s distracting me.
“Oh fun! I loved my reunions.”
“You mean you went to more than one?” I continue to gather my things and head for the door, Deb falling into step beside me.
“Of course! I went to them all. If they come up, I go.” Deb is a few years older than me, but not enough to have had a twenty-year reunion. I don’t think. I’m not actually sure how old she is but she doesn’t look like she’s in her forties.
“I’m not looking forward to it.”
“No? Why not?” There’s true curiosity in her voice and she’s one of the first people to ask without an agenda, without some ulterior motive and who seems just genuinely interested. Maybe that’s not fair to say of Trent and Becca, but Deb holds no stakes in my going.
“I wasn’t overly fond of high school. I have nothing great to look back at except my time with Trent, and we’re married now. I’d rather focus on the time we’ve been back together than the time before we split for a while.” Deb knows the basic details of our relationship, if not some of the more sordid ones as well.
“I mean, few people actually enjoy high school. But you get to go back and show them how amazing you are. How well you’ve done for yourself.”
“Maybe that’s just it. I don’t feel like I’ve done that much with myself. I don’t feel like I have a lot to be proud of.” There’s the most honest truth, spoken to Deb of all people. It’s not that I don’t like Deb, she’s nice enough. We’re just not close.
“What are you talking about? You’re an amazing mother. And, don’t kill me for saying this, but you have ahothusband. You have a beautiful home and children and do more things for your kids than I think most people even have time to think about. You have alotto be proud of.” Her words cover me in a blanket but none of it soaks into my skin.
“I guess I just don’t see it as accomplishments. Yes, I got married, but most people do. Sure, I snagged a good-looking guy but that was sheer luck. I have no idea what he saw in me, or even continues to see. And kids, I mean I guess I feel like that’s just part of the process after you get married. But I don’t have a job or career or anything like that to show success in.”
“No, maybe you don’t. But you have a lot of real-life experience. You gave up schooling to be a mom, and you’ve mastered that.”
“Ha! The kids had cold chicken nuggets for dinner. Is that really mastering parenting?”
She sighs and crosses her arms against her chest. We’ve taken to walking slowly as we’re almost out to the parking lot. “Did they eat? Are they healthy? You have to give yourself some more credit, Leslie.”
“It’s just hard. Trent says the same thing.”
“Sexy and smart.” She waggles her eyebrows as she elbows me in the side.
“Alright, alright. He’s all mine and I’m not letting him go any time soon.”
“What I’m trying to say is you might not see your success, but other people do. And I’m sure there will be people at the reunion who think you’ve accomplished nothing more than becoming a parent, but others who will think you’ve reached the moon and beyond.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“I am a little bit. I’m not so different from you, though I gave up a career when I got pregnant instead of leaving school. But I’ve been a stay-at-home mom ever since. I faced some of the same judgment at my reunions, but I didn’t let it bother me because I love my life. I love being home for my kids. Do you?”
This is a million-dollar question if ever there was one. Of course, I love being home with my kids, day in and day out, as exhausting as it can be. And all the things that go along with that, including being the wiper of butts and noses and the one who runs all the errands and does the majority of the cleaning.
But sometimes I wonder how my life would be different, howIwould be different if I had a job and was a working mom instead.
Deb gives me a wink and walks away, leaving to me think about her question and all the information she left me with.
The thing is, she’s not wrong. I just can’t see those successes for myself. And it leaves me wondering, if I can’t see them, does that mean nobody else will see them either?
