Chasing Superwoman by Susan DiMickele Page B

can see what’s going on out there. Each time I do, I learn a few things.
    Like the last time I went out in Hollywood. We had a partners’ meeting in nearby Los Angeles, which is where a bunch of lawyers get together, eat and drink too much, and talk about how much money we can make for years to come. The first night of the partners’ meeting, a group of us decided to go to this new club in Hollywood. The club is too exclusive for the average Midwestern lawyer to get into, but we had a few connections. Jock Jill took a cab with me to meet the rest of the group, and some blond-haired, six-foot-three bodyguard named Chris let us in the back door. It’s the kind of club where you can’t find the back door unless you know what you’re doing. We didn’t know what we were doing. Chris spotted us from the inside and opened the door. Midwestern lawyers are easy to spot in Hollywood. Jill had a pretty swanky outfit on, but Midwestern swanky has long been out in Hollywood.
    I was overdressed. I had clothes on. The new style in Hollywood is apparently no pants. I knew that underwear had long been out, but no pants? This was news to me. I’m exaggerating only slightly. There were several women in the club who wore long shirts with nothing but their birthday suits on the bottom. I am not beyond staring. I’m a mother with two daughters, after all, and I need to be informed. I dared to think, “I wonder what their mothers would say?” Even Superwoman wears underwear. Doesn’t she?
    Once I got over the initial shock and stares, I felt very sorry for these underwearless women who were wearing no pants. It just made me sad. Then I thought of Anna. Ever since she turned two, Anna has resisted clothing. She’s always hot, which is one of the reasons she’s constantly taking off her clothes. She doesn’t like to wear underwear. It’s too restraining. I thought this was just a phase, but apparently Anna has embraced West Coast fashion.
    I’m already having visions of Anna in Hollywood and it’s quite disturbing. So I pray, “Dear Lord, please don’t let Anna grow up like those women in Hollywood with no underwear and no pants.”
    What can I do to make sure it never happens? It’s already happening. Just prior to my trip to LA, she was playing in the snow in her bathing suit and snow boots. And that’s in the middle of winter, below freezing. If she ever moves to a warm climate, she’ll probably give up clothes altogether. I know my neighbors must wonder what kind of mother I am. And unlike King David, I tend to worry too much about what other people think.
    My mother always quotes from Proverbs with confidence, “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.” 2 I just don’t have my mother’s level of faith, but I wish I did. I wonder if I can quote that verse as a guarantee. Even if I can, there’s no guarantee kids won’t rebel when they’re young. It says when they’re old they won’t turn away. So do I have to wait until my kids are old to see if they turned out? I might be dead by then. I’ll have to admit, since I’ve become a mother I’ve placed a heightened value on my own life. Hollywood is proof that my children are going to need me, at least for moral censorship, for years to come. Lawyers can be replaced. Mothers can’t.
    Inner Beauty
    Like me, Anna loves to dance. It’s innate. She first started asking me if she could go to dance class back when she was three. I found a ballet program for three-year-olds but decided to put off the inevitable. She still kept asking. I finally gave in after she turned four. Ballet class is the only time each week she doesn’t refuse to get dressed. Besides, you don’t have to wear underwear with a leotard and tights. Being a former ballerina, I can’t argue with her. Underwear only gets in the way.
    Anna