Sometimes I forget what a glamorous life I lead. Last night, I dined with the most fabulous royalty; a fairy princess and a rock star in a flapper dress and tap shoes. One was very disappointed that she could not wear her recently acquired Libby Lu hair piece, but her lady-in-waiting was not up for washing out the hairspray before bed. I chuckled as I thought about what I normally consider a not so glamorous life. (Come on, I was seated next to a prince in a white turtleneck smeared with cheesy rice and ketchup.) All of a sudden I realized it’s all in the perspective!
I mean, we have tea parties all the time and my two tiny, barely-on-the-growth-chart girls are usually half naked in tutus or dress up gowns (it was SIX degrees today!) We regularly have “help” setting the table or doing the dusting around here. Most of the inhabitants that live here are welcome to participate in continuous freedom of personal expression – that’s pretty exciting. We see regular theatrical and chorus productions for free. We experience huge personality explosions, even tantrums, quickly followed by the best make up sessions on the planet. At least three of us grow daily, continually mastering new skills and expanding our educational bases. Most of us have regular manicures, pedicures and new hairstyles. Around this time of year especially, there is a continuous showering of gifts. Three of us have a chauffeur, so that’s pretty cool. We dine out frequently and who cares that most places resemble my high school cafeteria in one way or another?
The conversation around our home is always intriguing; from the correct pronunciation of Riley’s “R’s” to Finn’s newfound ability to announce his bowel movements, to the recital of the canned greeting to be used when selling Logan’s girl scout cookies. (I’m kidding completely about this, of course. The conversation with and between my kids is one of my favorite mommy benefits!) Occasionally, the adults even speak directly to each other, but as was the case last night, we experienced a mid-sentence interruption of loud flatulence and a glorious uproar of laughter ensued.
“Nothing like a good “fart” to get you grateful for the reality of your life,” I thought. Suddenly the craziness of our weekend (two birthday parties, a night out which took some serious convincing on my part and our kitchen and family room being painted) was swept away and replaced with lots of smiles and a good release of happy endorphins swimming through my veins. Sometimes I think I need to get out to recharge, but maybe not. Maybe all it takes is some good old gas (not mine!) to get me remembering how glamorous my life really is!