Coming Home

Would you rather show up for a party under or overdressed? It’s a strange feeling, when you show up somewhere having totally missed the mark, attire-wise. With the first glimpse of a patent leather pump, everything you thought the event was going to be is chucked out the window while you search for some red lipstick, something, anything, to help you find a place in the orbit of the party for which you are clearly not prepared.  Oops. I now tend toward overdressed.

when in doubt, wear a tutu.

Cutest. Ever.

I’ve mentioned before that my work takes me away from home.  Last week I had back to back shows, so I was in work mode for the better part of two weeks.  Thankfully, my family was able to join me for the first leg of my trip, but the second half I was flying solo.  It’s an odd thing, and I’ve written about this before, being away from the tiny person who has been so dependent upon me for the past 14 months.  It takes me awhile to figure out how to be me, without Grace there.  My strategy these past few shows has been to work on compartmentalizing my life.  This takes real mental strength.  I have to acknowledge the fact that I am, ultimately, a mother, but the parenting job is being handled by someone else and I need to fill my time with something else, because if I dwell too long on these thoughts, I get a little blue, so I keep them in their compartment and move on.  At least, this is the current formula.

Werkperk. SLC, baby.

Lucky for me, I work with very interesting, social people who are generally up for all kinds of shenanigans, so last week I gave myself permission to just have fun.  I found my friends and saw a movie, had drinks, maybe had one too many drinks, laughed, ordered food without having to worry about it being baby friendly, talked with other adults about life, did yoga, explored a giant interactive museum and made a little girl cry in the ball pit (for real), I even went bowling and while my performance was abysmal, the laughs were great.

I dressed for the party.  And I nailed it.

Oh oops, how did that get here?  #humblebrag

Upon coming home from work, and this has always been the case after working auto shows, I really struggle to figure out how I fit back into my life.  It sounds stupid, it’s my life after all, but having been absent from it for a few days, and having lived such a vivid, full existence while away, I always feel like I’m searching for a way to fit in again.  Luckily, I know this about myself, Eric knows this too, and he gives me a Grace period for a few days while I drift around our home like a satellite lost in space. Where are the thousands of people I’m supposed to engage with? Where are all my friends?  Did that really happen?  My show friends and I were commiserating on how difficult it is to turn off the auto show persona when you leave work.  More than once I have aggressively smiled at and greeted a passer by on the street, totally freaking us both out — you’re not at work, slow your roll on the smiles, Buddy.  So to go from an auto show with tens of thousands of people, to quiet house + baby + at home mama?  It’s not even close to missing the mark on party attire.  It’s like preparing for Tosca and showing up opening night to find it’s really Waiting for Godot.

So on my first full day home, I took Grace to the library for toddler time.  I dressed in typical mama wardrobe, some sort of legging + sweatshirt + Ugg boot combination, threw my hair back in a braid, blinked on some mascara and just like that I was back in the trenches of my other life. Walking into the library, there were lots of parents and kids and it felt a little bit like…a crowd. People to be talked to and entertained.  I could feel the showmanship edging back in, wishing I had at least put on some lipstick…but their gaze was not on me.  It was on Miss Betty the librarian, and we were not going to talk about anything fancy or grown up. We were going to read stories about germs.

Puccini's Madame Butterfly?  Psych! Buckle up for some Chekov, baby, tonight it’s The Cherry Orchard. 

Do you ever have this feeling?  Is it exclusive to my auto show peeps?  Tell me you know what I mean.  I was dying to make a joke about the cost of plastic cups when I got home and saw a pretty solo cup sitting in my cupboard, but no one would have gotten it.  I know you’re all just a text away and we can engage in some e-laughter, but still.  It’s not the same.

It's a couple of days later so I’ve washed most of the auto show off and jumped back into life as usual. It’s a lot quieter.  And I look a little less fancy.  And I miss all the silly things I talked about last week (g forces, trust falls, resort wear Santa...you know who you are). But I have to say, as the curtain rises each morning, I definitely, definitely know exactly which role I am supposed to play.