Duty.

So I got called to jury duty. Federal Grand Jury duty, or some such. I contemplated getting out of it, claiming "undue hardship" as I have two small children and am a stay at home Mom. I wrestled with the idea long enough to realize that I had missed my window of opportunity to send my letter to get out of it, so I decided that I would buck up and perform my civic duty as a proud citizen of our country. I was equal parts excited and annoyed.

My Mom was sweet in offering to watch the kids today, and I had a babysitter lined up for tomorrow.

I woke up at 5 to nurse Jules, get dressed, get all of my paperwork in order, and get to the train station well ahead of time. As I sat there on the train platform, waiting for my ride to center city, I felt weird. Everyone waiting with me was so......professional. High heels. Makeup. Nice suits. Leather briefcases. Blue tooth earpieces and conversations about rate and spread and conference calls. No baby-finger-smears in sight. I sat there, with my silly little canvas "purse" thing which I grabbed in a frenzy as I ran out the door when I realized that my diaper bag uniform would not be necessary.......and I felt weird. Naked, almost. I am so used to having two babies by my side to define my role of "Mother" that I felt a bit adrift on a sea of other peoples clearly defined identities. I tried for a brief moment to look important. I rustled around in my purse, and grabbed my blackberry, as though something very.important.and.critical might be on there. No. Just a text from Nate telling me that the kids were eating waffles with blueberries and strawberries. I then was appalled to see that there was also a pair of my dirty golf socks (this "purse" doubles as a golf bag on occasion), golf tees, ball markers, a sippy cup valve, a zoo parking permit, and a plastic duckie. Not kidding. I felt very Mom-ish.

The shift from "career person" to Mom is a big one. I used to actually need my blackberry to do business. I used to actually have important calls about rates, or credit, or giant costly financial transactions. Now, I have a rubber ducky and some socks and a weird fluttery nervousness about getting to where I had to be in time to be there.

I got to the courthouse on time (early in fact, if I may pat myself on the back). I texted Nate that I was there safely. He texted back "Good job baby, I was thinking that I was going to get a sobbing phone call about how stupid everything was and how you were lost". ?!?!?!?!?!? Now. I know that my sweet husband was partially joking. Partially. I have travelled across the country more times than I can count. I have had the pleasure of visiting every single state in the country, barring Hawaii. I have travelled internationally on my own many times. I consider myself reasonably intelligent and occasionally capable. Yet here I was, all proud that I had managed to get myself to the federal courthouse in Philly by 8:15 AM.

I treated myself to a egg and pork roll sandwich, and even a thing of starbursts, just to fully embrace the luxury of eating something (anything!) without hearing, "Mama, Luke want dat!" or "Mama, More!" or "Mama, special treat, Luke have dat?". I walked from the train to the courthouse and had this weird "Alice in Wonderland" feeling going on. Seeing residents in scrubs, obvious Ally McBeal types all anorexic and nervous and impeccable looking, artist looking folks, businessmen in calfskin pointy shoes. I felt as though there were a lot of things that I am not, and that, at this point in my life, I will never be. It was strange. I got to the jury room. 15 whole minutes later, we were all told that we could go home.

By 8.45, I was dismissed. By the time I caught the next train (a local, argh) home, it was 10.30 when I pulled into my driveway. My 15 minutes of "civic duty" had cost me 4 hours of my day, $14 for my ticket, and another $6 for my sandwich/candy treat.

I never wrestle with the question of "Who am I now that I am a stay at home Mom?". I love who I am as a Mother, and I feel endless gratitude that Nate and I have been able to enact our goal of having one working for money parent, and one working at home parent. I realized that it was just that, without my kids in tow, I was relatively undefinable. Sitting there on the train platform in my jeans (clean ones! those are like dress pants, these days) and my ponytail, I didn't conform neatly into a little box. I felt a little lost. I felt like I needed one of those oh-so-important ID cards around my neck, with a picture of Luke and Jules.

I like to say that I don't miss working. But, were we to take the kids out of the equation (which, clearly we cannot, as they ARE the equation) I did like some of the ~ the ~ the I don't even know what. The role. The purpose. The recognition. The box that I fit neatly inside as "career woman".

I found myself giving up on looking important, and instead sat there and looked at pics of my kids that I had saved on my phone.

Out here in my life, filled with friends who stay at home with their children, and play dates, and parks, and the like, I never question my identity, my role, my purpose. I can admit though, that sitting on that train platform today, I had a flicker of recognition of my old life, with a different role and purpose. It's not that I miss it, it's just that it brought home to me how many other people are doing such totally different things than I am. It was just a little strange.

So, in light of my strange day, here are pics that remind me of who I am these days. I am the Mom who takes bubble baths with her children. I am the Mom who loves her husband fiercely. I am the Mom who isn't very fashionable, and who can't even get a purse together without the inclusion of rubber duckies and dirty socks. But I am still a person who can get herself to center city, on time.