As I mentioned, I rarely go back and look at my own blog posts. This will become a problem with encroaching senility, and I may begin to subject you all to the same post over and over again because I just THINK it's original when it's not.
However, being reminded about this one, I re-read it, and, gratifyingly, it's all still true. (Both about my characterization, and the friend I use as the example).
So, here's to ALL of the trophy wives I know. Again!
Had lunch with my friend Jen today. Sometimes I talk and she listens, sometimes she talks, and I listen and sometimes, like today, we both talk at the same time, which seems to work for us, but probably drives people around us completely W*I*L*D. (And that's fine...go eat your tuna salad sandwich somewhere else then!)
She too, needs another wife in her life, to help her maintain the myriad commitments on her plate and that got me thinking about the whole concept of Trophy Wives. (I refer you to wikipedia if you must brush up on the term...http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trophy_wife)
I'd like to refute the blonde bombshell/big boobed hanger-on image of yore, however, and suggest a more relevant conceptualization. Not to date myself, but I think that a true trophy wife can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan and .......well, if you know the reference, then you know the rest.
For example, take my friend Jen.
Jen is smart (and not just, "let me help you with your Algebra homework, honey" smart...she is PhD- tada....your mice now have an extra chromosome and i've taught them how to knit-kind of smart) and funny (blow soda out of my nose - question my standards of continence laughing at her kind of funny) and kind (stays up til 4 a.m. crafting a homemade Scooby Doo cake for her 4 year old kid kind).
Moreover, she holds down a big time, stressful, required 4 years of post-bac, 7 years of apprenticeship training kind of a job where she saves people's lives and gets to say pithy things like "yeah, that patient was in DKA and the frigging intern had her set for discharge" that make the rest of us mortals go "oooh" and "aaaaah" and prompted me to list her as my #1 emergency contact in case I have a heart attack or get a splinter or something.
So, in addition to her crazy, time consuming, life force sucking career, she is this cuddly mommy person to her children. She buys her own groceries and washes everyone's clothes and cooks things from scratch. She squeezes in the occasional date night with her hubby (with whom she still really likes to hang out). She spends her few free weekends digging holes for new plants in her yard, and carting her kids to sporting events, or holding down the fort so that her husband can do the same.
She reads, and writes, and stays abreast of current events. She swims and she runs (not because she's being chased, but because the thought of running 26.2 again is always just slightly on the periphery of her potential radar) and she has gaggles of friends over for cookouts and girl's nights.
Is she nuts? You bet! Over committed? Duh! Does she need an au-pair or a Mary Poppins in her life? Hell yes! But she's normal, and nice, and not a bitch, and does all these things, for all these people without ever making me feel like I'm inferior. She can laugh at me and then turn around and laugh at herself in the same breath, singlehandedly validating and destroying both of our neuroses in one fell swoop.
It is THIS woman, and so many more just like her that I know, who is the TRUE trophy wife. This isn't one of those cheesy gold painted plastic trophies that ends up on a shelf. No, this is the sterling silver cup that ends up being your favorite Pilsner mug.
However, being reminded about this one, I re-read it, and, gratifyingly, it's all still true. (Both about my characterization, and the friend I use as the example).
So, here's to ALL of the trophy wives I know. Again!
Had lunch with my friend Jen today. Sometimes I talk and she listens, sometimes she talks, and I listen and sometimes, like today, we both talk at the same time, which seems to work for us, but probably drives people around us completely W*I*L*D. (And that's fine...go eat your tuna salad sandwich somewhere else then!)
She too, needs another wife in her life, to help her maintain the myriad commitments on her plate and that got me thinking about the whole concept of Trophy Wives. (I refer you to wikipedia if you must brush up on the term...http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trophy_wife)
I'd like to refute the blonde bombshell/big boobed hanger-on image of yore, however, and suggest a more relevant conceptualization. Not to date myself, but I think that a true trophy wife can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan and .......well, if you know the reference, then you know the rest.
For example, take my friend Jen.
Jen is smart (and not just, "let me help you with your Algebra homework, honey" smart...she is PhD- tada....your mice now have an extra chromosome and i've taught them how to knit-kind of smart) and funny (blow soda out of my nose - question my standards of continence laughing at her kind of funny) and kind (stays up til 4 a.m. crafting a homemade Scooby Doo cake for her 4 year old kid kind).
Moreover, she holds down a big time, stressful, required 4 years of post-bac, 7 years of apprenticeship training kind of a job where she saves people's lives and gets to say pithy things like "yeah, that patient was in DKA and the frigging intern had her set for discharge" that make the rest of us mortals go "oooh" and "aaaaah" and prompted me to list her as my #1 emergency contact in case I have a heart attack or get a splinter or something.
So, in addition to her crazy, time consuming, life force sucking career, she is this cuddly mommy person to her children. She buys her own groceries and washes everyone's clothes and cooks things from scratch. She squeezes in the occasional date night with her hubby (with whom she still really likes to hang out). She spends her few free weekends digging holes for new plants in her yard, and carting her kids to sporting events, or holding down the fort so that her husband can do the same.
She reads, and writes, and stays abreast of current events. She swims and she runs (not because she's being chased, but because the thought of running 26.2 again is always just slightly on the periphery of her potential radar) and she has gaggles of friends over for cookouts and girl's nights.
Is she nuts? You bet! Over committed? Duh! Does she need an au-pair or a Mary Poppins in her life? Hell yes! But she's normal, and nice, and not a bitch, and does all these things, for all these people without ever making me feel like I'm inferior. She can laugh at me and then turn around and laugh at herself in the same breath, singlehandedly validating and destroying both of our neuroses in one fell swoop.
It is THIS woman, and so many more just like her that I know, who is the TRUE trophy wife. This isn't one of those cheesy gold painted plastic trophies that ends up on a shelf. No, this is the sterling silver cup that ends up being your favorite Pilsner mug.
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