Sunday, December 15, 2013
Motherhood is like a sweater... my husband's big, grey sweater, that has fallen on top of my expensive skinny jeans and black tee shirt with the plunging neckline and lace trim. And I forgot I even owned those clothes. And all I can see is my husband's sweater. And those clothes still fit me, and are me, but they lie dormant under the big, floppy sweater of my husband. And that sweater represents family and how it covers me, and hides me and how I can't find me under that sweater. And that sweater is too comfy. I'm not even looking for my clothes. And I wonder why I feel strange- like I'm missing something. But I don't remember that those clothes are even there- so close. Right underneath that big sweater. That outfit that I should be wearing but I'm not wearing and I should be. I should be me. And then one crazy day I find that outfit- I move my husband's sweater- and I notice that I've been under family for so long that I resent that sweater. I push it. And I put on that outfit- and it feels so good- and I remember me. It's like I forgot my me. A Louie CK who forgot she was a Louie CK. This is our challenge as women today. Because we were having careers. We were doing things. We moving our lives up the hill. But no one really expected us to get back to it. Not until the kids were in university at least. But I'm doing it now- while the kids are still small. And I'm pretty sure that makes me a bad mommy.