That is a picture of the inside of a Toys R’ Us store. See all those aisles filled with cheap plastic poisonous crap from China? I HATE IT!!
There are also aisles of baby stuff; booties, onesies, cribs and strollers. Aisles of stuffed animals, and a whole section just for game stations.
And inside the store, at least our local one, wanders a bunch of moms, some with kids and some alone. They stroll around, looking down every aisle, and seemingly enjoying spending their cash on toys that will break as you take them out of the mission impossible wrapping. I think if the actual toy was made from the same stuff as the plastic wrapping, they would last forever! (I smell a conspiracy!)
Anyway; as I sped around the store looking for a suitable gift, I realized that although I have hated these places forever, I hate them more after becoming horse nutty. I truly can’t stand it! As I was checking out, the cashier asked if I had a Frequent Shopper card, and I bristled and answered “no” in a voice that can only be described as Haughty. I realized my rudeness and stated “I will only come here under extreme duress.” Really? Could I possibly have come come across as any more of a BeeYatch?
My kids are teenagers, 17 and 20, and so it has been a long time since I was forced to fake Toys R’ Us enthusiasm, and I have clearly lost my touch. Let’s hope that by the time grandkids come along (that better not be soon, ya hear?), I will have a semblance on self control and be happy to fake it again. I kind of doubt that since I have come to that stage of life where I am “honey badgering” a lot, meaning I don’t “give a sh*t.”
I have always had a hard time with the “super Mom’s,” and never really felt that I fit in with the mom and wife crew. You know what I mean because as a horse nut you probably don’t either. They have long discourses on the benefits of Huggies vs. Luvs, and can tell you the nutritional value of any juice, and knows the school secretaries name and brings in a cupcake for the Principals Birthday.
I have NEVER been the classroom mom, and I can’t really blame that on working, as I bet I would not have volunteered had I been home. I am just bad at that stuff. Sure, my house is fairly clean (I NEVER make my bed), I cook on a regular basis, but I feel no passion for that stuff. I have never looked at juice from a nutritional stand point, and I just bought the diapers that were on sale. Our meals are quick and easy, except for holidays or when I feel inspired, and I keep finding new ways to combine laundry loads to save time. (wow, when read in a row like that, even I am shocked!)
But……………………………. Pippi is on 12% protein, she has 2 supplements from Smartpak (SmartFlexII for joints and tendons, and SmartMuscle Stamina for Muscle recovery), she eats high quality grass hay, has access to salt/minerals, and two buckets of water that is cleaned and refreshed daily. Her stall is cleaned daily ( I NEVER make my bed!!), and she has her own run that she can access on her own. She gets all the shots (my sons are behind), sees the farrier every 6-7 weeks, the Equine dentist once a year, and a Chiropractor when needed. We massage and use muscle ointments on her regularly.
I can spend hours in a tack store, love tack auctions, will get up at the crack of crazy to be a show mom when Pippi and Miranda compete. Pay loads of money for boarding (not so much now, love you Donna and Kevin) and lessons, feed, and tack and etc etc. I will talk your head off about Pippi, and horses in general, and find myself a bit bored when in the company of non-horsey people for a prolonged period of time. Seriously!
All this came to a head today at Toys R’ Us, when I realized what a nut I am. Can you imagine how crazy my priorities must seem to those women who love doting on and shopping for their kids, while I am all about my horse? I love my kids of course, and I love making them happy, but my own personal true selfish happiness comes from doting on Pippi, learning to ride better and just being at the barn.
I am not just a mom, and the part that is not, loves horse stuff. And that part is growing bigger as the kids get older, and as they need me less the mom gets to take a backseat a bit more. Let’s just hope I can fake it better when in the company of non-horsey friends now that I have some insight into how obsessed and nutty I must seem. I mean; what kind of a mother would rather shop at Tractor Supply for her horse than Toys R’ Us for her nephew?
A Horse mom, that’s who!