ManicDDaily

Two things I dearly wished for as a child were (i) to be Catholic, and (ii) to have saddle shoes.

They both represented a certain organization in my mind.  (Not organization, as in the Church, or Thom McCann;  organization in the sense of order, structure, rhythm.)

Catholicism was represented  by the couple of Catholic families on my street.  These each had enough children to require regimentation.  Rooms were shared; chores were assigned; eating was done only at meals, which were also on a kind of rota.  Fish sticks, of course, on Friday—these were not a particular source of envy.  Spaghetti on Saturdays.  The smell of the sauce emanated from my Catholic neighbor’s kitchen for hours, an unseen tomatoey aura that seemed to heighten the heavy greens of our semi-rural suburbia.  My Catholic friend, Susie, came out afterwards with sunsetty orange stains around her mouth.

Saddle shoes seemed in my mind to be Episcopalian.  (At least, the two girls I knew who wore them were.)  The mothers of these girls, like the Catholic mothers, did not work outside the home.  Less stressed than the Catholic mothers  (fewer children),  they wore their hair with either a schoolgirlish flip or bound in braids, and, on their feet,  trim white anklets.  (Seriously, anklets.)   They organized Brownies, Girl Scouts, volunteer stuff.  This, plus the anklets, seemed to give them a clear edge in the saddle shoe department:  they knew where to buy them.

I had a working mother, a rarity back then.  Yes, she made spaghetti sauce, but not for hours.   She wore hose.  And was too busy, and guilty (like many working mothers), to maintain a clear structure of delegated tasks.

As I grew older, a working mother myself, my childhood envy of Catholicism and saddle shoes spread to Advent calendars.  Setting aside all religious elements, Advent calendars represented patience, organization. If you’re going to have an Advent Calendar for your kids, you need to keep it in a special place,  consult it every day, only allow one little square to be opened at a time.

I tried.  But some  of us veer towards the energetic rather than systematic.  We squeeze things in, eating when we are hungry,  reading a book all night long.  We can hardly wait to wrap a present before we give it, make spaghetti sauce from a jar.  And will likely never ever get to wear saddle shoes.

Awww…

ps – for anyone who doesn’t know (I find this hard to imagine), saddle shoes are those beautiful, cow-like, curvy, black and white, or brown and white oxfords.