6.18.2010

What do 21-Year Olds Know?! NOTHING!


Eight years ago, I worked for a plasma collection facility as the medical supervisor. My job, among other responsibilities, was to interview and evaluate possible candidates for plasma donation. This involved performing physical examinations.

Have you ever donated plasma? I have. Between being a donor and a resuscitator of unconscious donors, my professional opinion is: DON'T DO IT!!! But I digress...

Allow me to preface my little story. Eight years ago I was a 21 year-old single college girl. I was brim-full of all sorts of ideas of what LIFE was...or at least what MY LIFE was going to be.

One day, eight years ago, two different woman entered my office at different times. Both were in their late twenties. Both were married with young children. Woman #1 (shall we call her "Agnes") walked into my office and slumped in the chair across from me. Agnes looked haggard. Sweats, greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail, no makeup, dark circles under her eyes. Being in my office was a welcome respite from Agnes's children.

Woman #2, "Veronica", came later in the day. Veronica was a vision in pink. Her colored hair was styled to perfection. Makeup done. Nails done. Smile on. Perky in every sense of the word. Veronica was so "put-together" that I remember interrupting the interview and complimenting her on how "put-together" she was. Then my stupid, immature, unwise 21-year old mouth opened further and gurgled forth something brazen and idiotic like: "That's how I am going to be when I am a mom!".

To the present day...More specifically, yesterday, June 17, 2010.

In spite of our stuffed, snotty noses and achy body parts, the kids (all three) and I braved the town of The-Middle-of-Nowhere to do a little Father's Day and grocery shopping while we had the car for the day. There had been no time for a shower or much other grooming at that. I made a minimal effort and brushed my teeth and pulled my greasy hair up in a pony tail. A pair of jeans and a T-shirt completed my "look". The kids were lucky to have their shoes on...even if they were on the wrong feet. The girls' hair was untouched by brush or comb. The boy's glasses were all sorts of mucked up. Whatever. Let's just get our errands done.

We went to JC Penney first. For the two seconds I absorbed myself in trying to find the correct size, I managed to lose 23-month old Elle. Code Adam was called and she was located all the way at the opposite end of the store. Code Adam?! {snort} It would be more appropriately named Code Loser-Mommy-Can't-Keep-Track-of-All-Her-Rug-Rats-or-Her-Birth-Control. At least that's what the clerk that brought my lost lamb back to me said with her eyes. Whatever.

I still had shopping to do, but after that little humiliating display, I gathered up my brood and left as quickly as possible. Since they had announced exactly what my child looked like and was wearing, the whole store knew I was THAT mom. Whatever.

We made our way to the post office and managed to keep everyone together this time...kind of. Elle managed to make it out the door of the post office without the rest of us, but I could see her the whole time I was running to catch-up. That's gotta count for something.

Knowing we still had a hefty grocery shopping trip ahead of us, and realizing we just weren't going to make it through gracefully, I stopped at Burger King. I proceeded to make negotiations with the kids. Their end of the deal: play, burning off enough energy to not be total hooligans in Walmart; eat, filling their bellies enough so that they are not asking me for every cookie, cracker, candy, and pop we will undoubtedly see; and behave perfectly, especially when we get to the store. My end of the deal: to not eat my own offspring. Oh! and to drink copious amounts of Dr. Pepper. Done and done.

On to Walmart...Two hours later, with one grocery cart overflowing; one grocery budget gone horribly awry; three whiny, bickering children; one husband home from work, locked out of the house, and in desperate need of a bathroom...I found myself in the Walmart parking lot...

almost in tears...
not-quite-yelling-but-speaking-forcefully...
sweaty...
overdrawn, in every sense of the word...
remembering that day eight years ago...
muttering something about how this wasn't how MY LIFE was supposed to be...
still clinging to that 21-year old belief that I was supposed to be a Veronica. NOT an Agnes...

Whatever.

I'd like to find Veronica and dump all my snot-nosed kids on her while Agnes and I go out for a Ladies Night...or just take a nap.

17 comments:

Cannwin said...

I hate those days.

When I was a kid my mom had this one bandana that she would always wear, I grew up loving that piece of clothe because it was the embodiment of everything motherhood should be. Now as a mother I understand the bandana. It covers greasy hair, unbrushed hair, or unruly hairy... or all!

I have my own bandana now too. I don't wear it as often as my mom did, but today I'm wearing it. It's so nice to know that I can put a piece of fabric over my hair and hide that one part of me that screams overwhelmed mother!

Sami said...

Oh how I wish I could go back and smack "pre baby" me! I remember, when Roon and I were first married, and we would see parents in the store being less than patient with their offspring. Sometimes (gasp!) they'd even yell. I remember telling Roon that I thought there was no reason for such outlandish behavior in parenting. I told him that I would NEVER yell at my kids, certainly not in public. Now, as I head to the store on occasion with children who look like orphans, forcefully telling them that if they make their sister cry one more time, they will accompany me out to the car for the remainder of the outing, I wish I could go back and give that judgmental newlywed a piece of my mind!
LOVE THIS POST!!!

Jeremy, Lana, Brenna and Mason said...

I agree with everything here! haha Sorry you had to have a rough day though. I have only two and sometimes I feel like I must look like I'm overwhelmed because everyone's looking at me like "I should help her, but I'll just smile instead". I don't know how to be that mom who always looks like everything's in control and just right. Maybe one day... but I doubt it.

Serene is my name, not my life! said...

You're the bomb. I love it!

When you and Agnes go out, would you mind giving me a call?

Lisa said...

You are so funny! Thanks for the laugh! I'm sorry you aren't Veronica - but hey. Who really is? She probably has a nanny and a chef and a chauffer!

Katy B. said...

Have I told you how much I love the way you put things? Hilariously funny....and so true!:)

Hope things get better. Watch "finding nemo". Just keep swimming....just keep swimming. hehehehehehe

Bethany @ Organic Enchilada said...

Cheers to Agnes! I am an Agnes myself. Not by choice, it's just the way things roll. I had to emply a code Adam myself once. At Wal-Mart. So I was a white trash mom losing her white trash kid in a white trash store, (that I couldn't live without). At least you lost yours in a classier place. That has to count for something!

Lind Family said...

Oh, how I love you! I too, like Sami, wish I could go back and slap my newlywed self.

I'd love to join you, Agnes, and all of Agnes' out there.

Sorry for your crappy day. Thank you for writing so well and brightening my day! <3

iamwoman said...

HAHAHAHAHA! I can't relate. I'm totally a Veronica.

sending hugs your way....

Sarahie said...

I'm coming with you and Agnes. Veronica isn't real. =)

Myya said...

This was the BEST post!!! I am SOOO an Angnes most of the time. Isn't it just so unbelieveable how easily we let our pre baby self slip away. Sigh. I had all the patience in the world before kids... what the heck happened to it?? Oh & seriously isn't it amazing how quickly a little one can get out of sight. Adjusting to 3 hasn;t really been too bad for me except when running errands & grocery shopping. It is SO much more taxing with 3 then it was with 2!
I'm game for that ladies night w/ you & Angnes!!!

Erin said...

I had this exact same day yesterday! I think Veronica was just putting on a good show because she didn't want people to know that underneath it all, she was really an Agnes. I'm an Agnes, too. Let's just embrace the greasy ponytail!

{leah} said...

Ahhh yes... me before children. I was NOT going to do THAT. MY children were never going to eat THAT. My children would be PERFECT when we went to the store, because I was going to teach them to behave.

And then I actaully had kids, and all hell broke loose and I woke up from my dream.

But I can say that I am constantly entertained and always have a good story to tell. I dont' think I would get that if I had perfect children.

So Here!Here! for all the houligans out there! :)

Debra Joy said...

I think Veronica was all dressed up because it was her only time out of the house. It is alot easier to look put together when you don't have the kids with you :). I use crochet headwraps to cover my greasy hair when it is in a bun. Which it is more of than not. I am an Agnes too and proud. :)

iamwoman said...

this was posted 6 days ago? where have you been woman? the moving excuse is long gone...

somebody send out an alarm:

"blog neglect! blog neglect!"

Cannwin said...

Whats fun is that I happen to know the answer to this one!

Her computer crashed, she is working on getting things back in order ASAP.

:)

Missy0327 said...

So I know this post is over a year old but it made me smile!! 1) because I remember that perky 21 year old from the plasma center (I was 19 or 20 I believe?) and 2) because I only have 1 child but I can feel your pain (have TOO much on my plate). :)

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