luxury, part I

in the last couple weeks, i've felt the meaning of luxury in a way no millionaire could understand.  well, no millionaire who hasn't been a mom =)

two weekends ago, we dropped the girls off at my godmother's and headed down to staunton, va for our first event with the dartmouth alumni club:  a showing of Richard III at the Blackfriars Playhouse, complete with pre- and post- performance discussion, wine-tasting, dinner, and breakfast buffet.  oh, and accommodations at the fantastic Stonewall Jackson Hotel next door.

it sounds great, doesn't it?  and it was - the introduction of the play (which i'd never read) by one of dartmouth's premier professors made it accessible and even entertaining.  the show was amazing - the troupe was doing a special series simulating shakespearean era performance, i.e. the players staged the whole production with no director in just 30 days.  the company was good - even though we knew no one, at every table we sat down to, we had no trouble joining in on a friendly, lively conversation.  we're both introverts, so that is fairly unusual ;-)  i don't know if it was the common experience or the college connection, or if there really is something about dartmouth people.  maybe a combination thereof =)

it took me a few hours to realize why i felt like i'd stepped into an alternate reality.  a semi-intellectual (by which i mean comprehensible to lay people; to be distinguished from pseudo-intellectual) literary discussion is probably not most people's daily life, but it was more than that.   it was the first time in a long time, i'd say oh, about 4 years, that my primary definition wasn't mom.  at dinner and breakfast, the kids came up in conversation, but as a piece of the puzzle, not the theme.  we talked about places we'd lived, about the middle east, about ben's research, about interviewing dartmouth candidates, and a few times about how the kids did away from us and such things.  it wasn't just that they weren't there, it's that they weren't front and center.  this was probably not a strange thing for ben, but for me, just about every situation i find myself in, whether it's church, friends, grocery shopping, and obviously playgrounds/ballet/bike riding/zoo/library/crafts (you get the idea), i'm mom.  work is a possible exception, but i think because there's so little social aspect to it for me, it doesn't weigh much into my relational consciousness (yes, i just made up that phrase).

i don't mean this to be a complaint; there is nothing i'd rather be right now besides mom.  it just felt like a flash to the future (or a blast from the past?), reminding me that, while mom feels all-consuming now, it is a role and not an identity.

which leads me to part II.. when i get to it.. next time i put down my mom hat ;-)