The Other Woman

After I wrote that title- I thought,, that probably doesn't sound too good. It's not what you think..

Don't get too uptight. (grin)...

Today's post IS about the Other Woman... the One that I see when I am out and about, that I am not. And probably will never have time to be.

This is me:

Waking up to a little one's face in my eyes next to my bed,, asking me for breakfast. Jumping into a cool shower, because my teens used all of the hot water, and heading downstairs to get some pancakes going for all of the hungry mouths waiting to be fed.

Changing diapers, pull-ups, combing curls, and cleaning faces,, almost ready to jump into a morning full of homeschooling, corralling toddlers, and following a crawler.. we are almost to 8:30 a.m.

School accomplished - kinda -

Heading to the gym...

This is me:

Gym time allowed for my day- one hour. Taking baby and girls into nursery area//

Throw on whatever clean "gym apparel," I can muster to find, and head to the stair climber to exercise ( literally work my butt off.- hope I didn't offend any one here... just the truth of it) :)

Sweat bullets, and run back to locker room to throw a sweatshirt over my sweaty clothes.

Load babies into van, and off we go to pick up older kids at bus stop.

This is me:

Homework help, making dinner, preparing lessons for Church, answering toddler questions, laundry, baths, and of course trying to find a genuine smile for my husband when he gets home.

Teens talking with us till late hours, cleaning up house before bed.

(And this was an abbreviated version )

The Other Woman? Where does she fit into all of this?

This is when it hit me. I was shopping at Sam's Club today, loading the cart for our big family, and I was observing all of the different people around me.

The Other Woman:

Click, click, click... I could hear her heels coming up behind me. In fact, I didn't even have to turn around and see her, because I could now smell her very pretty perfume right behind me.

She passes with her fashion bag on her shoulder, and her slacks from the dry-cleaner presses neatly down the seams.

I am guessing that she had just returned from getting a french manicure, and her make-up was flawless.

I am guessing that she looks like this every day. It is amazing. To me at least. Even the nails would be a nice option once in a while.

In her cart, this is what she has...Go Lean Bars. Dove Hand Soap Pump, Kleenex Tissue with Aloe, and Salmon Fillets, and Dasani Water bottles.

( My cart - 2 Huge Super-Size packs of Toilet Paper, Paper Towels, 10 #'s Mozzarella Cheese, 3 #'s Chocolate Chips, 10 #'s butter, and more.)

She actually looked like she was enjoying this trip to Sam's, and leisurely strolled through the aisles, comparing prices, and checking nutritional labels, etc.)

I passed by her twice, and she thankfully she wasn't distracted by my toddler's singing Jesus Loves Me in her sweet (loud) voice. Her smile was genuine, and she didn't have any stress - lines around her mouth, or spit - up on her sleeve.

This is the Other Woman:

Different life. Different clothes, different agenda, thoughts, meals, and shopping habits.

Not wrong or right. Just different.

I will never be this other woman.

This is me:

A mom thankful to have time for a hot shower, a minute to open my eyes and think before the race begins.

A mom working hard to balance life- meals, exercise, health, and love.

A wife striving to put her husband first, and make a happy home.

A woman who would be incredibly awkward, uncomfortable, and silly in heels.

A woman who might like to try the nail thing once, but knows that changing diapers would just not be good for acrylics.

A woman who loves style, design, and always is drawn to the most expensive clothing, yet still throws on sweats, t-shirts, and simple running shorts for the gym.

This is me:

Content. Happy. Thankful. I could never be the "Other Woman."

I might enjoy watching this, but I was not cut-out of that cookie cutter mold.

If you ever see me out and about without any children, heels, and a cup-of Starbucks in my hand...turn me back around, and show me the "way home."