January 2022: The League of Invisible Women
When my kids were little, I joked about forming a support group I would call M.A.P.S. (Mothers Against Pre-Schoolers). The idea came to me during those formidable years when all four of them were of an unreasonable age, that passage of time when the adult mind cannot fathom what must go on in a child’s head that inspires them to do the things they do. There are missteps that lead a kid into the most illogical and oftentimes maddening situations, e.g. finding themselves somehow stuck twenty feet up a tree; having sliced open the sofa with a pocketknife and blamed it on the squirrel who apparently slipped into the house by way of the chimney; or, as a toddler, having figured out how to not only open the refrigerator but get hold of the family-sized Hershey’s syrup bottle, unscrew the lid and baptize oneself in a sheet of gluey chocolate. Too often, I found myself at the precipice my wit’s end. M.A.P.S., I decided, would help me and any other women willing to admit they dealt with similar circumstances. We’d offer one another support and a means to channel frustration. But, before I could organize, the kids grew up, left home to seek their fortunes, and suddenly those chaotic years were over, a mere wisp of memory that I look back on and laugh, with fondness (almost).
These days I’m considering a new venture, one that reflects my current stage of life, that weird, nowhere-land between parenting and dying. Middle-age, it’s called. I’ll name this group The League of Invisible Women. There is a station in a woman’s life, maybe also in a man’s but one of you fellas will have to write about that, when she becomes invisible. Her kids are raised. No more parent-teacher conferences, bleacher-seat-competition attendances, doctor’s appointments, laundry mountains or only ever being referred to as “so-and-so’s mom.” No more catching the eye of a handsome stranger while selecting a cabbage in the produce aisle. No more turning heads, commanding a room or making a splash. Essentially, no more attention-getting, anywhere, from anyone (unless it’s unwanted, for instance, when she buries her pickup truck in a snowdrift, meaning the cavalry has to come dig her out and she laments that she should have just stayed home).
She’s too old to be considered attractive, unless it’s in a regal, mature, you-look-good-for-your-age sense. She no longer has reason to circulate in the world unless it’s to grocery shop or go to the gym where she cannot possibly begin to compete with the younger women, those fit gym-mates whose muscles pop through their Spandex, firm hind-ends that have not yet drooped, who never break a sweat, who wear messy buns on purpose. Younger women respect her, which is good, but she’s no threat.
The League of Invisible Women would be available for hire. Its members are of an age when they need to pad their retirement accounts a little more. Do you need someone who can solve a crime? She’s your go-to. She can move through world without notice, a proverbial gray (wo)man, slipping in and out of places leaving no one the wiser. She can spy and gather information while dispelling any notion of suspicion. Her innocent, nonplussed demeanor renders her as non-threatening as a cow. She can appear bumbling or curious, whatever the situation calls for. The good news is that she’s still young enough to be mobile, to have her mental faculties and to fight her way through technology. She’s healthy enough to not be a fall-risk or display troublesome signs of the onset of dementia. These combined attributes give her carte blanche to move about the world without sticking in anyone’s memory to the extent that she could be identified in a line-up.
Maybe The League could expand into the private investigation business, hang out a shingle to surveille or serve or scheme, for hire. Think about it. All those years of raising children equipped her with a skillset for dealing with unreasonable characters, solving problems and juggling ridiculous simultaneous priorities. She doesn’t want to let the travail of it all go to waste. Besides, she could use the extra money. I think the term kids these days use is “side hustle.” This one has potential, don’t you think?