I was walking in Ballard today with Elvis in her stroller and this lady was walking towards me, nicely dressed but she looked like she was hiding something. So I followed her. I can't help it, I was roaming around aimlessly and sometimes adventure calls in the strangest way. She had a nice bag and her hair was neat, outfit seemed to pass for "normal" and then she walked up to this van that was packed to the roof with crap. The entire dashboard was covered in fast food trash, papers, clothing... it was wildly disgusting. So she opens the sliding door and hops in. I had to pause for a minute (fix the baby's blanket) and when she opened the door it was like an episode of "Hoarders" but in a van! I don't know how she even got in, I was stunned, she just sort of disappeared into the abyss of garbage.
I'm not judging too much. I mean, yes I think it is totally whack that people live this way and every time I watch an episode of "Hoarders" I itch and immediately take some stuff to donate at Value Village. I was just more struck by how much effort this person must put into seeming "normal" because no matter how you slice it, chick is not okay.
My point is, we have to look under the "cover" to find out who we are dealing with. This lady looked perfectly fine, you'd totally rent her a room in your house or ask her to watch your stroller while you throw something in the trash can- whatever, you just would, by looking at her. Meanwhile, I can't even get a conversation going with any other Mothers in Ballard or the like because of the way I look to them. If they only knew I was a hardcore troubadour, I'm solid. I'm a connoisseur of parenting, I live it, I breathe it and I'm pretty fucking good at it.
But they don't know. They are just wound up so tight, very judgmental- it seems.
I try not to judge. I notice. I observe. And I am open to being wrong about someone but I am usually right. My husband calls it my "gift/curse". I'm not a "know-it-all" but I am right a lot. I think it's because I have this old man in me, I have this creepy sense that I have been through a lot of things that are playing out in real time, like deja vu on steroids.