Something You Don't See Everyday

The kidlets and I went to the zoo the other day, and there is such a decided demographic: namely people with strollers. This encompasses kids in strollers, moms pushing strollers, dads lifting strollers in and out of buildings, strollers used for carrying the diaper bag while the kid walks.

We purposely went a bit late in the day, figuring that the Stroller Brigade would be heading home for naps by then. Yup, it worked. We pulled into a parking spot ridiculously close to the entrance, and battled up the Stroller River to get inside.

I am still fascinated by all the different formats Moms come in. There are definitely 'types" of moms and I am always mentally trying to see where I fit. There are the cute tiny Asian moms, who look all of about 14--not me. There are the short shorts and halter top wearing moms, who are often identifiable in the restrooms by their ridiculous footwear. High heels at the zoo for gods' sake? Nope, not me either. Plus, they are so damn perky!

There are the fun moms, with cute but practical hair, wearing sensible walking shoes that are still cute--a lot of Skechers' cross straps in this group--who are interacting with their kids in positive ways. I want to be one of them, but let's face it--they usually have at least FOUR kids, and I'm just not that organized. Face it--I know they have coolers full of healthy picnic lunches and 100% juice drinks in reusable cups. I'm always the "we can buy something there" mom--my pre-outing packing routine stopped shortly after "Do I have my keys?" and "Did we remember to bring your sister?" Yeah, I wanna be one of that gang, but I don't have the cred.

Older moms? Well, no, and that is NOT just my vanity talking. Broadly speaking, older moms tend to have just the one kid, often adopted from a foreign country. Most of them look exhausted, except the ones who are more Earth Mother-y. You know the type: long curly hair, equal parts brown and salt-and-pepper; ankle length denim skirt; t-shirt with liberal slogan or activist cause on the front; Birkenstocks.

There was an actually specimen from this phylum near the exit as we headed for home. Barrettes clipped into hair? Check. Denim jacket on the stroller? Check. French pedicure?

WHA. . . ?










Who wears Birkenstocks and a French Pedicure? I bet nobody who works at Mother Jones gets French Pedicures! French Pedicures scream "I get pedicures AT LEAST every two weeks which means I have an hour and a half during daylight hours to spend on myself! Plus the ability to drop a substantial bit of money as well!" French manicures say "I pose for J. Crew catalogs for the employee discount on polo shirts."

They do not say "I carry my own reusable hemp backs when I shop at the co-op to save the trees." They do not say "I only eat tomatoes I grow myself in the back yard." They also don't say "long denim skirt with activist slogan on the front."

So now I'm stuck on this. Why would this Older Mom Type have a French Pedicure? I'm just guessing here, but I'm thinking maybe she has a daughter from a previous marriage, or maybe a step daughter, who knocked her over the head with a sock full of quarters, and she only came to sitting in a massage chair with her bare feet in bubbling water.

Yes, I think we have spotted the opening signs of Wedding Season.

Photo source here.