The Not-So-Extreme Makeover

The prospect of rejoining the paid work force is rather terrifying. For one thing, I'm looking at my closet and realizing that I've worn nothing but the Mom Uniform of a t-shirt & jeans for the past 4 years. And at my last position as an apprentice cabinetmaker, I just wore grubby t-shirts and ripped jeans. Not to mention that I haven't bought make-up since my wedding. I've never really been a fashionista, but I at least used to have more than two pairs of shoes. I actually bought an InStyle magazine the other day just to see what the kids are wearing these days. Thankfully, I think I missed the resurgence of 80s fashion; that was bad enough the first time around.

Thinking about it, the bigest part of the return-to-work makeover is internal. 4 years ago I went through a major identity shift, not simply adding "mom" to my list of roles, but subtracting "productive member of the work force." A difficult thing to do in our capitalism-based society, and also just as a person who has always taken pride in her independence. The words "just a mom" can either be a convenient summation of my life or an insult, depending on who says it and how it's said. I now face saying goodbye to the days of wallowing in toddlerhood and reinventing myself, yet again. There is some trepidation about how I go about talking to adults again about things other than sleepless nights and bodily functions, but I'm sure I'll get there eventually. My plan? When in doubt, just say "Looks like we're in for some more rain" or "How 'bout that Lindsay Lohan?"