Femme fatale

By Christine

"Where did my femininity go?" I patted down the pockets of my sweat jacket and matching sweat pants, hoping to find it.

"I had it just a minute ago. I know I did." I searched under the bed and found board books, an old sippy cup, and a child's sock. Nope, it wasn't there.

Padding down the stairs, I looked in the living room. On the way, I stepped on a Lego with my bare foot. I screeched. My femininity had gone missing. How did I know? One look in the bathroom mirror told me so. There was no amount of Dead Sea mask that was going to erase those worry lines. Not even a bucket full of conditioner would tame my frizzy Mommy do.

There was only one solution. I needed some serious fun.

Luckily, I have a few friends. They call on occasion, in the hopes I might have time. The other day, one friend offered me the chance of a lifetime: to meet the members of the legendary rock band Deep Purple ("Smoke on the Water") and Alice Cooper (no, he never bit the chicken's head off) at a press event the very next night.

Spontaneity isn't on the roster of a mom with young kids. Neither is begging, for that matter. But I needed a night out to find myself again, to reunite with the fun-loving person I once was. I carefully broached the subject with my husband.

"I’ve got a press pass to do this thing..." I began tenuously. "I'm going to write a magazine article about the Munich Olympic Walk of Stars," I continued. My husband grunted into the phone. Liza Minelli had been honored just the week before. I wanted to replace my sweats with my Levi's, don a little make-up, and feel almost famous for a night.

In the end, my husband realized my need to reclaim a sense of self and the importance of getting this writing gig. Pulling out of the driveway, I waved goodbye with a lightness in my heart. I was about to walk with the stars, if only for a brief moment.

Waiting seems to be a part of show business. Anyone who has worked on a concert tour or film set will tell you there's a great deal of dead air time between jobs. After we connected with our contact, we waited over two hours to see Deep Purple sink their hands into the wet concrete which would later be placed on the Walk of Stars around the Olympic Lake, much like the Walk of Fame on Hollywood Boulevard. The band member with the widest smile made my heart melt. I went up to him and asked for his autograph. It was Steve Morse, the lead guitarist.

Gushing like a teenager, I said, "You are so sweet." I was such a goober. Could I not say something more sophisticated like, "You know, that riff on last year's tour had a unique quality. Would you show me how you do that some time?" He posed patiently with me as my friend snapped a picture. He then signed a random piece of paper I found in my bag. I wished him luck and thanked him for the great music he and the band make. Later I met Alice Cooper who smiled and called me "Dear." At that moment, I felt my femininity yawning itself awake.

When Deep Purple performed that evening, my friend and I had a different perspective on the band jamming on stage. We had just seen them up close and personal. I couldn't help but feel proud watching Steve make his guitar sing. It was a caring "You go, honey" type of feeling, which made the experience all the richer.

As I smiled into the black nothingness that stood between me and the stage, I realized I was a feminine woman -- and a mother, too.

Christine is an American author and freelance writer living near Munich, Germany, with her husband and two children (Jackson, 4 and Sophia, 6).

Comments

[Larry Pontius]

Heck, you're not "Almost Famous." You've made it, babe!

Regards,
Larry

[Vacation Mamma]

So lets remember to rock this crowded boat ladies!

It does get easier as the children age, that I know for sure. The problem is will we have any femininity left when we find it in the drawer wadded up under the practical panties and sports bras?!

More sponteneity and saying yes to friends this year makes me a happier, more pleasant spouse and mom. It's what the parenting gurus always said, but that we mortals find nearly impossible in the first dozen years or so.

My personal accomplishments this year include a few massages, book club, a filming of a TV show with 2 girlfriends, and actually saying yes to become a permanent member of the bunco group where I've subbed for nearly a decade.

Now if I could only cram my post birth feet into those stillettos...and my rear end into...well I'll settle for the shoes...

[mar]

Hmmm.... perhaps that's why I make sure I have earrings on - 2 or 3 pairs - and at least 2 bracelets on when I walk out the door ... in my sweatshirt and sweatpants ...

Night out, anyone?

[Christine Louise Hohlbaum]

I felt I had to answer Karin's question, because it was a great one. For any of you out there asking the same question, here's my answer:

How do you have some serious fun? Do what makes you really, really happy!
Is it going to a water fun park with the girls? Or sniffing Yankee Candles until temporary blindness sets in? Well, do it, by golly!

I visited your chaotichome blog. Yup. I know what you mean. Flybaby versus soaring eagle. Which will it be? The answer lies within you.

[Karin]

Okay, you've really hit home for me with this post. Thank you for putting to words what you were feeling, AND for just going out and having serious fun! Motivating. Now, how do I do that???? :)

[LauriJon]

Christine, what a fabulous piece. And what a great opportunity to get to meet Deep Purple!

I know I don't get enough of just being able to be a woman, me, alone, by myself or with my woman friends. And it's essential for us to do this to keep us breathing and feeling human. You go woman!

[Mary]

What I relish about these opportunities is that the femininity I feel is more for me than for anybody else. I have no desire to be adored (I get enough of that at home), I just like the feeling of walking tall without a diaper bag or Baby Bjorn strapped on me.

The badge of motherhood should automatically conote uber femininity, but unfortunately the trappings (Baby Bjorns, ugly nursing shirts) and work (fetching endless cups of juice) of motherhood tend to overshadow the sexiness inherent in the calling.

[Kimberly]

I blogged this too. Only when I traded in the momass sweats for hotmama jeans I *still* ended up with a lollipop on my ass.

[Monster Mama]

I SO SO SO know what you mean! I blogged about something similar (*see my blog, MIA-my former self). It's sad, but true. And the scary thing is that this is a VERY crowded boat. Take comfort in knowing you are in very good company!