Isn't it ironic ...

This morning I gathered my still-very-wet-from-the-shower-and-too-long-for-my-age hair into a pony tail and secured it with a scrunchy. I grabbed a pair of blue jeans and an orange t-shirt from my closet and threw those on while simultaneously stuffing my feet into my Land’s End Mary-Jane trekkers. Moving at the speed of a comet, I threw my phone, lunch, keys and outgoing mail into in my free-to-me-thanks-to-Office-Depot purse/briefcase/and everything else bag, struggled into a sweater while delicately balancing a coffee cup and threw myself into the driver’s seat a mere 20 minutes from the time my feet hit the floor this morning. Ten minutes later I was at my desk and ready to roll. This is my normal routine in the land of rednecks, and today I realized with a shock that it’s the identical routine my Mom had back in the 70s when she was a woman in a man’s job … back when I was taking at least an hour every morning making myself glamorous for high school boys of all things. I vividly remember giving my mom a hard time – all the time - about how she dressed, wore no make up, always wore tennies, blah, blah, blah. She always just laughed me off. What I didn’t know then is really just what I didn’t know then. That those precious extra ten minutes provided by the snooze button in your own warm bed are far sweeter than wearing mascara ever will be and that taking the time to start the dishwasher before you go to work makes your life exponentially easier than the time taken to struggle into panty hose ever will ...... and that shaving your legs really IS just for Saturday nights out and holidays.

Growing up, the one thing I never wanted to be was my Mom. Now that I’m grown, I'm puzzled that I EVER thought that way and only hope I turn out to be as terrific as my Mom.

Ironic.

I wish she were here cuz I think we’d have a really good laugh together over this.

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