I had my kids later in life. Translation, after the sports car, the trips to islands, Paris, South of France, Switzerland, the Ann Taylor Loft Wardrobe and the personal trainer. I lived. And I lived well.
And then came the kids. Instead of salon appointments, I bought Nice n Easy. I parted ways with Ann Taylor and fell in love with Batman. I shopped at Target for my self and my daughter's American Girl Doll dresses cost more than my work outfits.
After horse riding boots, britches, wrestling shoes, singlets, Boy Scout everything, dance costumes, guitars and lessons, band and instruments, there simply was nothing left for me and if there was extra money, I was too tired to go shopping and spend it.
Last summer, my friend Kelly came to beach week. She brought her usual accomplice from Chicago and a new friend, Robin. Robin, I loved immediately. She is a former West Virginia girl and has three kids and always has a smile.
After their week at the beach, where my family takes advantage of their opulence, the "button" went bizerk. The very night they left the beach, he left our home and we all know how that worked out.
They knew I was applying for my new job and I was excited and REALLY wanted the new job.
And despite promises to keep in touch, it got harder to do so. You get absorbed in your lives and your kids and a year passes like lightning.
And 365 days later, they were back.
I was late joining them this year. I had been to Pennsylvania for a funeral. On the way to the funeral, I stopped at the outlets in Gettysburg. Back to School shopping.
I made sure that each child had something for me to take home to them and before I left the outlets and then I walked into the COACH store.
Immediately, my nose danced, the smell of real leather. The white background with the lovely pieces of arm candy, the COACH purses. I gazed and gazed and gazed. One caught my eye, and I picked it up. What a work of art. Oh my, the lining. I loved the lining.
And without even looking at the price tag, I put it back. I couldn't justify it. I had three pairs of feet to take care of yet and unless the elves visited the shoemaker, I needed to make sure my three kids had new shoes.
I walked out. Damn, I wanted the purse.
But, I am a mom.
But I work and I work hard, damn it.
By the time it would be time for ME again, it would be the room with the view at the nursing home.
But, instead of a COACH purse , I had three healthy kids and some killer stories for the nursing home. A fair trade off.
As I was driving, I was thinking about the last year. Last year after my friends left, my hopes fell to the floor and we started hell again with the button. I did get the job and love it. Media sales is hard and I made it to the "one year" mark. Here we are, one year later, I am going to do well with my job, the button is most likely going to make it and things were great.
After I got home from the funeral, I could not wait to put the sadness of the past couple days in the rear view and head to the beach house with my girl friends (and once again suck off their opulence). Awesome. And of course we all apologized for not doing as well as wanted to keeping up with one another.
And then, after a few glasses of wine on the back porch, they brought me a present, to say congrats on the new job. It came in a big red bag, with lovely white tissue paper, a big red box inside, wrapped with real white ribbon and then, the white satin bag. I opened the white satin bag and started to cry. I am such a sucker for a presentation.
The arm candy. And it wasn't JUST the purse to me. It was so much more.
It was about where I had been, just one year ago, where I was going, the fact that three moms got that sometimes mom doesn't come first, friends and "I am just an embryo, with a long long way to go...."and frienship and celebrating.
I love my purse. I love the lining. I love the bag, the ribbon and the box it came in. I love what it represents. I love the girls who gave it to me. I carry it with pride. All the things I did without, it was so worth it.
I guess I need to toss those maternity underwear now.
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