I am a mom of 3, a wife, and an often disgruntled lab tech ....I write, knit, crochet, cook, & just try to make it through. My writing blog is wordsontheceiling.tumblr.com if you'd like to check it out. Thanks for hanging out in my head space! ~D
As a kid I watched the original Superman movie and was baffled by the fact that any of those people could talk to both Clark Kent and Superman and not know they were the same person. My foolish little self thought, “it’s a pair of glasses and bad clothes….really?” How naive I was. (I know it was Superman’s attitude and confidence, too, but that’s beside the point.)
So, now I’m an adult, a very nearsighted one, and I’ve worn some sort of corrective lens since fourth grade. From age 13 until about 29, my primary mode was contacts. I only wore my glasses when sick or at home. Since I’ve become a lab tech, though, I usually wear my glasses to work. Glasses work better with all the microscope time (I forget to blink and contacts dry out), plus it’s an extra bit of protection to keep stuff from splattering in my eyes. I wear my contacts on the weekends and days off.
Therefore, the people that I’ve worked with for the last five and a half years know me with glasses. I do wear my contacts on occasion, as I did yesterday, and someone made the oddest statement to me. He said, “Some people look a little different without their glasses, but you look a LOT different.” I was like, wtf?
It’s part of what I’m going to permanently refer to as “The Clark Kent effect”. And believe me: it’s a real thing.
I have seriously been several places outside of work and come in contact with people I work with every day and they don’t know who I am. Regular clothes (not scrubs) + contacts apparently makes me into another person. People I see out are really confused when I start talking to them, and then eventually they catch my voice.
I can’t decide if this phenomenon is due to people not paying attention to the people they work with, not paying attention when they’re out and around, or just ignorance in general. Regardless, it’s convinced me that superheroes can definitely get away with having a secret identity. All they need is a pair of glasses.
We just finished supper after going to “Meet & Greet” night at the twins’ soon-to-be preschool and I feel like I’ve been run over by a train. Most of the time I was there until we sat down at the dinner table, I was about two shades away from a full-on anxiety attack.
Was it filling out the paper work? Maybe it was reading through the handbook. Or was it reading the official disaster plan and realizing that there’s a plan to handle an “active shooter”? Or maybe it was meeting their teacher (she’s lovely, by the way) and seeing the little room they’ll be in with its cubby holes and nap mats.
They were very excited. I am terrified.
This is the first time we will be sending them into a school-type large scale childcare situation. Since 6 months old, they’ve been in a home babysitting situation with a lady we’ve known since my oldest was taken care of by her at age 2. At the most they’ve been with 4 other kids at her house. At church they’ve gotten a little more exposure, but that’s only for a few hours at a time.
I still have too many painful scars from the struggles of that first year. I don’t want to be a helicopter mom, but it is so hard to let them go.
I know they need it. I know they will adapt. I know they will learn a lot. I’m sure they will be fine.
But still I feel utterly panicked.
Did I mention my oldest starts high school on that same day? Shoot me now.
Just had lunch with my mom again. It went well, I think. Less heavy this time, more of just an information sharing. Keeps her from being as pushy and demanding otherwise.
I did share a new thing: I told her that I’m writing. No, she didn’t know. No one in the family does, other than my husband and my oldest. Her eyes got really big when I told her about the massive novel(s) I still need to hard edit, and the shock continued when I said my friends were pushing me to try and publish. She seemed happy and supportive-ish, but definitely shocked. I really don’t know what to do with that. I guess I want her to read my stuff someday; not necessarily for approval, just to show her who I am. Didn’t tell her about either blog, though. Not that crazy, yet.
I wish adulthood was like high school, in that if nothing else, you could count on seeing your best friends every day at lunch or on the bus or whatever. I go too long without seeing my people. It sucks. I suppose the universe has designed it this way. If the three of us were together more, we’d probably take over the world or at least get into trouble.
Had the last bit of nearly a year’s worth of dental work on Tuesday. This round did something to my gums and now I am miserable. Antibiotics for the weekend!
It is gray and drizzly and kind of cool here. Totally wrong for July in the Dirty South. I need a sweater and a blanket and cuddles with my honey. But instead, I’m going to stay at work. This responsibility thing blows sometimes.