Kid Amnesiac

When Simon first started preschool, I couldn’t help profiling the other parents I saw dropping off their kids, especially the other mothers.

1. Woman in a suit or dress with heels, makeup, and “done” hair: Full time professional working mother.
2. Woman in sweats/shorts with sneakers/flip-flops on and–the real giveaway—hair in a pony-tail? Full time stay-at-home-mom.
3. Woman in yoga gear or a tennis dress with a perfect pedicure? Socialite, working or otherwise.

Of course, my taxonomy was much too simple to be accurate. Some moms work only a few days a week. Others, like me, worked from home or in casual industries. The lines between category 1 and 2 could be fluid. But category 3 held its own. They were, and remain, a very particular type.

So you can perhaps imagine the confusion I felt today when I got out my car to escort Simon into camp this morning, only to realize that I was in my (now too tight) pilates clothes. I bought these about eight years ago when I took yoga five times before quitting, and they are now a bit too snug as a result of age, motherhood, and (mostly) running. Still, they are a fashionable brand, and they weren’t so tight as to cancel out the overall impression. Only my undone toes gave lie to the notion that I was someone who never planned to work for a living again.

And I’m wondering, as someone who very much plans to re-join the work force in the future, what does it mean that I reverted to the socialite wardrobe without even realizing it? (To say nothing of how long can I continue to pay for private pilates lessons?)