I'm on let you in on a little secret.
(I'm reading The Help, and yes, Aibilene speak has taken over my brain. Sorry fo' that.)
When I prep to fly, I don't think, "what is the cutest thing for me to wear on the plane?"
I think, "what items do I NOT want to make room for in my suitcase, but I most definitely want on vacation?"
Which means I end up dressed like this:
Because one never knows when I may need those jeans, flannel shirt and a pair of combat boots on my trip.
Did I mention, I tend to not fix my hair to fly, either?
Ponytails are my flight 'DO. PERIOD.
I'm running around the airport dressed in the oldest hoodie and sneaks I own, and I pass HER.
You know who I mean, right?
The Jackie O of airport mommies.
Hair perfectly groomed.
Clothes perfectly starched.
And fresh as a dew kissed lily on an Easter morning.
Her perfectly groomed children don't hang on her hip.
They don't cry.
They barely make a sound.
They hold her hand and walk next to her as though the airport, full of hustle and bustle, is their second home.
And there I stand, with pizza stains on my hoodie, my once neat ponytail now frizzed to the max, with a fussy and extremely clingy toddler wailing that he doesn't want his diaper changed, he wants to play with "CAR, MOMMY!"
And inside, I cry a little.
Because despite the fact that I want to be HER....
There's no way I'm ever going to make room in my suitcase for my combat boots, when I could just as easily wear them on the plane.
And there's no way I'm ever going to talk myself out of the fact that I could possibly remotely need or want them on my trip.
Just don't make good sense.