Let's get one thing straight: There is NO such thing as a part-time mom. Even moms who have joint custody of their kids are full-time moms because they're constantly thinking/worrying about their kids. Being a mom is a full-time job. It just is.
I'm not a mom. BUT, if there WERE such a thing as a part-time mom, I would be one. In fact, if there were such a thing, I'd be a part-time soccer mom. I watch three girls who all participate in soccer and need to be driven around to different practices, games, and camps. So it's not uncommon for me to pile up three girls and their various equipment in my big ol' Ford Taurus and drive them around while they drive me crazy.
I guess I always thought I would be a soccer mom. Back in college, I used to drive a station wagon (also a Ford Taurus--an even BIGGER one than my current big ol' Ford Taurus). I loved that car (before it caught on fire and died, aww). I always pictured myself in it, driving hypothetical kids to hypothetical soccer practice in hypothetical glory, hypothetically being the most amazing hypothetical soccer mom in the hypothetical world, the hypothetical envy of all other hypothetical soccer moms.
Turns out, it's not at all easy being a soccer mom, even part-time (if there were such a thing). It is a lot of hard work. Before I started working for this family, I didn't know anything about soccer equipment. I mean, I knew there was a ball involved. ... Yeah, that was pretty much all I knew. Now, three girls of various sizes and ages expect me to know where they put their soccer socks, or if the shin guards they just found in the bottom of their bag are theirs or their sister's, or if they're going to need to wear their cleats or just regular tennis shoes for whatever practice they happen to be going to. I have to juggle snacks and water bottles/jugs and balls and bags and make sure I don't leave a kid behind by accident.
Then there's the hair. Let me just say, there's a reason I wear my hair down most of the time. I can't do anything with hair. I can put my own hair into a messy bun or pony tail or braid, but it's often hit or miss. Another person's hair? Fuhgedduhboudit. The girls have stopped asking me to help them put their hair in a ponytail. All except the youngest one (The Princess), because she told me, "You can do my hair, Ruth. I don't care if it looks dumb, and it never stays put anyway." Not exactly a vote of confidence, but at least I feel almost useful....
And I gotta say, I'm the part-time soccer mom (if there were any such thing) who forgets stuff. If I were a REAL soccer mom, the poor kids would be in a lot of trouble. I'd forget to wash their uniforms because I'd be thinking about a new story idea. I'd forget to put their water bottles in their bags because I'd be thinking about how much I like cheese.
Fortunately the parents I work for are really good about reminding me AND having all their kids' stuff together in advance. Still, I've taken The Princess to her soccer camp twice this week and forgotten to sunscreen her up before we get there. I guess it's a good thing I'm pale and afraid of the sunshine--I carry a mini clip-on bottle of SPF 50 with me at all times. But this just means The Princess has to deal with the embarrassment of her part-time mom slathering last-minute sunscreen all over her face in front of her friends. Even to a six-year-old, that's kind of devastating. She'll be scarred for life and develop an irrational fear of sunscreen and have to go to therapy.
And the thing is, everyone does think I'm The Princess' actual mom. We both have curly blondish-brownish hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. We're also both very stubborn and have other similar personality traits that cause us to figuratively butt heads all the time, but that's neither here nor there. Apart from our similarities, there's also the fact that people see me driving her around and just naturally assume I'm the mom. So I get all these questions from the people in charge of the soccer activities and have to explain that I'm "just the nanny." One lady relentlessly argued with me about it, insisting that I was definitely The Princess' mom. The basis of her argument was that The Princess and I look a lot alike. I saw her point, but you know, I'd probably know it if I had a six-year-old kid...but that kind of logic is lost on some people.
The only time I get truly embarrassed about people thinking I'm the actual mom of The Princess and her older sisters, The Diva and The Drama Queen (who don't look/act nearly as much like me as The Princess), is when I happen to be out with the dad. Sometimes he needs help at soccer events, or sometimes we're all just rushing around like crazy people and he wants me to bring the girls to meet him at a restaurant. Then people assume I'm the mom AND his wife.
That's when awkward turtle wants to go hide in her shell.
But I'm not a turtle. I'm as close to being a part-time soccer mom as a person can get. So I can't go inside my shell. I can just go inside my big ol' Ford Taurus and try in vain to drown out the sounds of three loud girls playing PUNCH BUGGY NO PUNCH BACK! or singing chants they made up about their beverages of choice or playing I'M NOT TOUCHING YOU...or licking each other for no apparent reason.
Seriously, all joking aside, I kinda sorta love it. Maybe not the licking part...but being a soccer mom is fun!
And I'm officially a dork. I miss my station wagon.
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