The other day I was sitting inside a nail salon and instead of relaxing, totally freaked out, that people from my neighborhood will see me, especially mothers. My hands under the air fan, I was waiting impatiently for the cherry red color to dry. Why did I pick that color? Everyone will notice. Well, I loved it and that’s the reason I chose it. So one notices, right? Why was I so paranoid? Because I started feeling something very unpleasant, like a woodpecker working away next to my ear while trying to take a nap, something as unpleasant as a wrong number call in the middle of the night. Except this nagging feeling was of course deeply rooted within my own insecurity and doubt that I deserved relaxing and alone time. But something else nurtured that raging fire of doubt. It’s that something among moms, that I call “pleasure envy”. Tell me if it’s just in my head! But don’t you get that jealous look sometimes, when you walk out of the door in the evening and another mom notices you are off to a dinner or party with or without hubby. Then you run into that neighbor from downstairs with wide eyes and she says a little too cheerful: “Off again?” Or you come home late and run into a neighbor joking: “Where is baby?” More than once my reply has been jokingly: “Oh, up by herself. At two years, she can take care of herself.” I would get an uncomfortable pause, then I smile and the overly friendly would chuckle relieved. So here I was sitting in a nail salon with my hands under the air fan, my eyes darting nervously to see if a “supermom” notices me. (That is the species, that does it all by herself including the art classes, music sessions or museum visits with toddler guide.)
I was just testing the color on my nails again to see if I was ready to jump and disappear from my purgatory of waiting in the brightly lit window on a main Avenue, when someone stopped right there in front of me. Cheerfully smiling and waiving. It was Diana – with a stroller and two babies inside. She pops her head in: “Ah, here I find you! Where’s Julia?” I was ready to jump! Instead I rolled my eyes and smiled back at her: “OK, got me! Now what? Put me on the list of outed moms?” “God no! I’d love to do the same! I’m just jealous!” What a relieve! Just jealous! Hah, I knew it: Secretely we all want to get away for a little while from our little angels. But most of it, I want to do that unrecognized. Maybe that’s a niche: a getaway for moms sheltered from other moms. Again another impossible idea. Better then to keep our own guilt and doubts in check. How? By flaunting your red painted fingernails walking the streets proudly humming a tune knowing you got an hour to yourself!