So. I’ve been running different versions of this entry around in my head, trying to figure out how it is to make this funny & snarky, rather than ungrateful and bitchy. Yeah – I can’t come up with one, so I guess I’m left to wonder what it is that reveals about me… Basically, I’m just going to skim over the first part and hope no one notices how self-absorbed I am.
Here it goes: the reputations of the men in my life (at first my dad’s, now my husband’s) have preceded me ever since I can remember. The good thing is that they are excellent reputations to be associated with, the bad thing is that this makes my not-so-inner feminist a rankle just a little every time. Maybe too many women’s lit classes in college? I don’t know, but, yeah – let’s go with something that decreases my responsibility.
Now, the boy is still only a few months old. He doesn’t have “real” play dates yet – they’re mostly excuses for me to get together with my friends who just had babies and drink a glass of wine. There isn’t any person that knows the boy and not me, which means that, as of yet, he’s “Jessica’s son” (ha! take that!). However, in a few years, he’ll go to school and I’ll introduce myself to his teachers and his friends’ parents as “J’s mom.” Yes, we will be back to square one.
I’ve known for a long time that “mommy cards” exist – and have rolled my eyes about them ever since. I’m hoping that since I never invested in pastor’s daughter cards or submariner’s wife cards, I’ll be able to keep my own identity.
But, if I ever end up selling my soul to vistaprint, I’ll probably spring for the ones that let you upload your own photo, and define myself like this: