Kevin and I were at the post office a few weeks ago jumping through the necessary hoops in order to get a U.S. Passport. We had our photos taken, and then sat across a table from our "interviewer". We had previously filled out the appropriate forms and just needed to turn in the suggested personal identification and have the "interviewer" sign the paperwork. Since we had filled out the forms on the Internet, each blank space required some sort of filler. Kevin had no problem filling his out, but when I came to the blank space that read: Occupation I tabbed over it, only to find out that Occupation required filling. In a rush I typed Stay At Home Mom. As the "interviewer" looked over my paper work she said to me, "Stay at home mom? Wow."
It wasn't, "WOW!!". It was more like, "wow.", with an accompanying, but ever so slight, eye roll.
Feeling embarrassed I added, "It wouldn't let me leave the space blank". In which she responded, "I think it's great. I respect that.", which I knew was a complete lie due to the slight eye roll just moments before.
It's been bothering me ever since that day. But what's bothering me isn't what she said, but that I was embarrassed about my answer. I am in no way embarrassed that I'm a stay at home mom. Not at all. So why did I let her get to me like that?
I wanted to post about it, but couldn't, and still can't, find the words to articulate how I feel about it. Amazingly, Laurel (at The Tea Party Place--and the mother of a beautiful 8 year old girl that Treyson has a teeny, tiny crush on) addressed this exact subject on her blog. I'm going to post the links for you to read because they say exactly what I would have, had I been able to put the thoughts into words.
Thank you, Laurel, for putting into words what I couldn't. I agree, wholeheartedly!
It turns out that this is the same time that Mother Nature decided to let all hell break loose. The rain was coming down in sheets, the wind was bending my palm trees to the ground, 
Luckily, it was a short ride, due to the fact that the center of the canopy was still attached to the gazebo. At this point, I take the elastics out of my ponytail, secure all four corners of the canopy in a funky knot, and make my way back toward the house, feeling pretty good about my quick thinking and useful hair elastics. 
By the time I made it the 10 feet to my back door, my hair was willy-nilly and rain drenched, but I was alive, and happy to be so. When I got into the house, the boys are all staring at the t.v., completely un-aware of my Mary Poppins-like exit from the earth's surface. With barely a glance, one of them says, "Mom, what happened to your hair?". 
Fun!!!
