The Little Things

We were having a family dinner last night at 8:30. This time it was me and a late yoga class that delayed our dinner. It was nice, though. Everyone was a little more mellow than they would be at an earlier dinner hour. Conversation rolled around to what the oldest son's girlfriend could and could not eat.

"She's a vegetarian, yeah, she eats fish." the oldest said.

"Some vegetarians don't eat fish" I said.

"Well, you do, so I just think all vegetarians do."

and then I heard:

"In fact, I'm always shocked when I see a mom eating meat, it's like 'woooah, mom's don't eat meat'."

My husband, too, and the middlest and the youngest. None of them are used to the primary woman in their life eating meat. Now, this is no big deal. Not really.

What is a huge deal is realizing that it's not just about eating steak and burgers. It's about life. The way I do things is the way my children are learning about the world. Still. At almost 18, almost 15, and 13. They still see what I do and BAM, it's the norm, the standard.

Of course they know that not all women download a new song to their ipod and listen to it 15 times in a row until it's really sunk into their brain. They probably have figured out that not all women find hot baths and snuggling with cozy little dogs to be almost a spiritual practice. But they probably think other things I do are just the way things are.

Not that there's any pressure or anything.

No, none at all. Nope.

I'd better start flossing my teeth every single night, and eating 7 leafy green vegetables every day, and.....oh holy mother! I'm in trouble!