In the End, We Are ALL Just "Moms"

While waiting through the school drop off zone line this morning (which is another blog entirely -- WHY is it SUCH a difficult concept for some people to grasp?) I happened to glance in my rear view mirror and notice a familiar face.

I'll call her "Stephanie". We went to the same high school. She was a cheerleader, and we had drama together. "Stephanie" wasn't what I would call one of my best friends, but she was definately a person I had a hard time liking.

She was in drama to get her arts credits for graduation, I was in it because it was an art I believed in.

She was born with a woman's figure, and I waited until my senior year to develop boobs.

She could walk into a room and conversate with any person, while I kept to myself and my friends.

She was a cheerleader, while I was anti-anythingtodo with pep and spirit.

She read Cosmo magazine, I read Salinger.

She spent her weekends at keg parties, I hung out at comedy improv clubs and alternative music shows.

Studying her face in my rear view mirror, my view expanded to her car, it was a mini-van. Certainly not the vehicle choice of the uuber cool girl she used to be. I could see colored school papers littering her dash, and a little girl with a backpack sitting in the front seat talking non-stop while "Stephanie" gazed out the driver's side window eyes glazing over.

Every so often she was pulled from her reverie with her daughter tugging at her sleeve, and she'd nod her head in agreement or utter a few words. I imagined she was thinking about how many loads of laundry she needed to do, reminding herself to get cat food and call the plumber.

In this moment I am reminded that who we were in high school is not the people we have become today. In high school I was bold, I was wild...I carried a empty box of chinese take-out as a purse and wore Barbie heads strung in a necklace. Now, I cannot recall the last time I wore earrings, and I carry a diaper bag instead of a purse. (even when I am not with my children...how sad is that?)

Once we become mothers, I guess the trappings of our youth are forgotten and we are all the same.