For most of us it starts when we’re young. So young that we don’t remember our lives before it, and our lives after are entirely consumed by it. It’s a habit for which we would (and sometimes do) lie, sneak around, or spend money we (or you) don’t have. It’s a four- or five- (OK, maybe sometimes six-) figure-a-month habit that we will never consider a problem.
Even if we did, there are no support groups. No 12-step programs for the . . . yes, I’ll say it . . . addiction.
Like any great outfit that begins with a fabulous pair of new shoes, my son’s leadline “debut” began with the purchase of a fabulous bowtie. Neither the bowtie nor leadline would have seemed like good ideas but for the two (maybe three?) martinis that preceded them.
I did learn this: A mom that horse shows does not a “Horse Show Mom” make. I don’t know how the pony moms do it. Never mind the financials, I mean the nerves.
I'm not a hero. I'm not a Superwoman. I’m a lawyer, a mom, and a rider. And not necessarily in that order.
Lawyer simply means I went to school for a long time, took a lot of tests, and have eight extra letters after my name (do not ask me in what order they go). It means my work life ticks by in six-minute increments that must add up to 2,300 hours each December.