Friday, May 7, 2010

Licked

In the spirit of yesterday's post, I figured that this was the next logical place to go. We, as moms, often put ourselves last. We go too long between haircuts. We sacrifice manicures and pedicures for the sake of new baseball gloves and ballet shoes. We give up our sleep. We buy our clothes off the clearance rack while our kids get the nice stuff. It's just part of life.

Eventually, though, it all gets to you. You start to just feel...well, like a mom.

In the crazy lives that we lead, shuttling kids to and from every activity known to man, birthday parties, playdates, soccer games and school functions, we all start to lose a bit of our identity. A bit of our oomph. It's inevitable. We get caught up in mothering.

We've long since been wooed by our husbands, and though there are the occasional romantic gestures, there's not the same sense of urgency in the pursuit of said romance. Things become routine. Predictable. Lacking in oomph.

I was talking to some friends about this, about how every once in a while, it's good to know you've still got "it". How even though most of us would never really contemplate straying from our husbands, it is nice to know that there are other men in the universe who still notice us. Who don't see us as carpool driving, snot smeared, frazzled moms. Who see us, instead, as women. Living, breathing, beautiful women.

Of course, as we were in the middle of this conversation, a grown man walked up to the window next to our table at the restaurant and licked the window. I am so not kidding, this totally happened. Like I said, we don't want to actually be pursued. We just want to know we are still worth pursuing. Good lord, I can't imagine ever dating again. Having said that, it's kinda nice to have your window licked, even if it is by an obnoxious grown man.

After we recovered from the window licking incident, I told them about my most recent experience with men in the universe who aren't my husband. When I was waiting for my last flight home in the airport, I went into the bar to have a beer. I needed to decompress from the events of the past week and desperately needed some alcoholic assistance to get on that plane. I sat down, alone, in a bar. The Laker game was on. I needed the distraction.

I was fine, sitting there alone. Then, with no prompting from me whatsoever, the person next to me said hello. Only then did I notice it was a man. A nice looking one, a tall Swedish doctor, and he wanted to talk to me. Wanted to buy me a drink. Wanted to know what my interests were. Where I went to college. Really? No one ever asks me this kind of stuff. Ever. I'm just a mom.

I'm just a mom. But to him, I wasn't. I was a woman in a bar and he wanted to buy me a drink. Completely harmless, but man did it feel good.

It's nice to know you've still got it. Sometimes you have to hang out at the airport to realize it. And, yes, sometimes, it means you get your window licked.

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