So Many Hats

I have never been to a reading or book signing before. But the star-struck fan in me could not resist the chance to go to Jennifer Weiner's Philly stop on her book tour last night. So I took Erin with me to the reading of her latest release, Best Friends Forever, and then we waited to have my copy of the book (and her autograph book) signed. She was the only six-soon-to-be-seven-year-old there, and I probably should have known then that I had made a poor judgment call. But my daughter, despite having an ear infection, was charming. And we were genuinely happy to have the evening together. I had also given Meghan the option to come with me, and when given the choice between spending more time with Erin and me or staying home with Daddy, she picked Daddy before the sentence had finished its escape from my mouth.

My thought in taking Erin with me was one of educational motivation, as well as wanting some Mother-Daughter bonding time. And this was the type of thing that my parents would have involved me in and exposed me to as a child. Erin loves to read, she loves to write and she has seen Ms. Weiner's name on the spines of books on our bookshelves for years. We had a lovely discussion on the way to the event about different authors that each of us love. ("Mommy, the only way this would be more exciting is if we were going to see Barbara Park. Do you know who Barbara Park is? She's the author of the Junie B. Jones books," she said.)

We found the auditorium and claimed seats off to the side, in the front row, and we waited. Erin was happy and excited and very mature, and I proudly thought, "Ah! Great idea! You're such a good mommy!" Here was an evening where I was a writer, a mother, a fan. I could do it all.

Ms. Weiner took the stage and immediately began her shtick, which more resembled a stand-up comedy show than what I assumed would be a demure book reading in the basement of a library. (Despite having read her FB statuses that there had been use of some adult language at her NYC engagement the evening before, I thought, "Ah, a little profanity never hurt anybody." Me, the all-time-most-sheltering-mother-ever decided to loosen up in the name of education, bonding and whatnot.) Anyway, the truth was that she was incredibly funny, but I sat with my stomach caught in my throat as she let loose obscenities and sexual references the likes of which I simply did not expect. This coming from someone who utters, both silently and aloud, the "F" word to herself at least four hundred times a day. It was unexpected.

Was I put off and surprised because it was truly shocking? Or because I was there with my child? Would I have thought it was just plain funny or another feather in her cap to be so brazen and brave as a woman, uninhibited by convention, had I not been accompanied by my young, impressionable daughter? Or would it have seemed like a misplaced routine, given our setting and the audience, regardless of the company I happened to be keeping?

One fact resonated with me as I digested this evening...you can't wear all the hats at the same time. I am finally finding my niche. I am finally settling my brain into a realization that I DO want a career, however small it may be right now. I am a writer. And that's what I want to do with myself outside of being a Wife and Mommy. Last night, I went as an aspiring writer, having just had my first article published, going to hear and meet an author of some of the most entertaining work I have ever read. So there you have two hats: star-struck fan and inspired newbie. But then that wasn't enough...I had to put the Mommy hat back on, too. So rather than be able to have an evening among adults, where I basked a little bit, I sat, breathless and frightened, about having made a huge Mommy-blunder.

You can't have it all. And you can't wear them all.

I want to be a superwoman. I want to have healthy, well-adjusted, loved children, a strong, happy marriage, a clean house, a blossoming career, great, well-tended-to friendships. I want to do it all. And I can't.

So does that make me defeatist? Or does it make me a realist? Someone who realizes my limitations, or at very least acknowledges that I have them at all, and then works from there? I'm just not sure of the answers yet.

During the Q&A segment of her speaking last night, Ms. Weiner gave a bit of a shout out to SAHMs, saying that she just couldn't be home doing it all the time and had respect for those of us who did. She has fixed her life, she says, so that she cares for her kids and works at her writing. Those are her hats. And she rarely, if at all, wears them at the same time.

So while her language was shocking, it sailed over Little One's head. And even in the midst of me scrutinizing my judgment for having brought my daughter with me last night, Jennifer Weiner taught me something important: It's OK to only be able to wear one hat at a time.