All along, though, that original identity is still lurking. You might even call it a secret identity, because in the granola-crunchy community, getting a babysitter and singing karaoke until 2 am on a Saturday might not be looked upon kindly. For some reason, complete self-sacrifice seems to come with the package of attachment parenting, breastfeeding and organic living. We always worked hard to resist that sacrifice of everything else in our lives for the kids.. We always insisted (partly due to some great influences in our lives) that our marriage came first. So, we maintained our secret identities. On a Saturday night, we could still be the couple you could confuse for newlyweds, the way we drank, danced and gazed at each other from across the bar. Yet still, we spend long afternoons walking in the woods with the kids and plan transformative homebirths for our children.
Like any superheroes, there comes a time when worlds collide. I've had glimpses of it, when we're out and someone is showing pictures of their several month old baby and we casually mention that we have a few little whipper-snappers ourselves. Or someone we know asks about the kids. I always feel a little awkward, though, when people do this. Then it becomes this big scene: "You have a baby?" "Oh my god! You have 4?" "How old are you? You can't be much older than me!" On Saturday, though, they really collided.
We went to a birthday party for a friend downtown. The street outside the bar had been blocked off and the city had sand volleyball, a reggae band, and a slew of island drinks and food. It was pretty cool - we just joined as everything was wrapping up. John and I were in the beer line and we started chatting with a guy in line. He and John recognized each other as having met at a party a few years ago. He introduced us to a friend of his and she immediately stopped and stared at me. "Are you Maddie Hickey's mom?" John and I looked at each other, completely stunned. Looking back, I realize that this question might not have hit so hard earlier in the night, but after my ?th cocktail, that question completely blew my mind.
As it turns out, the girl was a camp counselor at the fine arts camp Maddie had been attending all week. She said that the counselors had a get-together after the last day of camp and spent much of the time discussing how Maddie was an incredible human being. This really warms my heart because Maddie often struggles with her place in this world. Her heart is really big and I think it takes a certain level of maturity to appreciate it and not think she is putting on airs.
So, although my head nearly exploded when she asked me about Maddie, I felt really happy driving home, knowing that people do and will appreciate her for the incredible person that she is, she just needs to hang out with college kids.
