I'm slowing coming to terms with the fact that I need a new fashion identity. I used to have some creative/hip flair that was sort of tied to a conservative touch, back when I was younger. Gosh, I loved my waredrobe. As a matter of fact, I still love my 20 something waredrobe. Issue is, as a 30 something-it is completely inappropriate to wear those things.
I also find myself lusting after the Junior section of department stores. That's bad right? I mean, just look at all the very cute and attractive things these girls get to wear! There are fun tops, great short outfits, long sweater shirts with stripes and great skinny stretch pants/jeans...why the heck don't I get that variety in the adult section?
Whatever happened to adults being able to have some form of flair? When I try on clothes in my age appropriate section, all I think is, "This would look nice in an office" or, "This would be something my Mom should wear." And isn't it slightly desturbing to anyone but me, that my mother and I are supposed to shop out of the same section in the department store and put outfits together accordingly? The other day we actually were wearing the same shirt?!
I don't think I'm pathetic enough to earn myself a slot of "What Not to Wear" with Clinton and Stacey (although people have said that I do remind them of her when I talk--so, shut up! I'm taking that as a compliment). But, seriously, what the heck am I supposed to wear at my age? The last thing I want is to look like those women on Real Housewifes, that don't realize, Calvin Klein wasn't designing for them when he made those jeans.
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Friday, May 22, 2009
You know you're a Mom when...
You know you're a Mom when...
I knew I was a Mom when I traded in my Vogue subscription for Better Home and Gardens. It wasn't even a conscious decision, but one that just happened naturally when all of a sudden I thought that the recipe featured in the copy at the pediatrician's office seemed really interesting. This, from a woman who thought boiling water to make pasta was cooking.
It was shocking enough to enter "wifedom" where you all of a sudden find yourself packing your husband a lunch and fussing about the house and scheduling weekends, but no one prepares you for motherhood. You'd think the nine months of carrying the baby would do it, but it's not even close.
Motherhood it's been said is a vocation. And it's the truth. When you have a baby, you can pretty much kiss pedicures, haircuts, eyebrow waxes and any other creature comforts you used to have a fond goodbye. They'll to be revisited when you're child is a bit older and you can have a teenage baby sitter come watch the child. And sure, you might have people offer to come watch your baby for a hour or so, so you can feel like a well kept person again, but let's face it--when they're asking you to "pick a color" at the nail salon, all you're really thinking about is how the baby is doing and whether or not he's happy. How in the world is that relaxing?
And you find that a good night's sleep is forever OVER. Gone. Forget it. Never going to happen. I hear from other Moms that when they're eighteen year old is out, they can't sleep until they walk into the door--let alone the baby that can't sleep more than four hours in a row. You'll actually start dreaming that your baby is crying. You'll hear your baby crying even when he's not crying--and quiet will make you nervous because you wonder when the crying is going to actually start again. It really is the strangest thing.
You'll also find that other Moms refuse to admit that they had or are having a hard time balancing wife, mother, woman, professional and human being at the same time. You'll see them all dressed up and just perky, while you're in a pony tail and sweats for the last three days and still can't remember if you showered. These super Moms will always ask, "How are you doing?" Which really makes you want to punch them out, because take a look at you--your a nightmare walking around on legs that are two sizes bigger than before you became a Mom. And you KNOW these super Moms have to be on an anti-depressant or have a sleep-at-home nanny.
And let's face it. Look at yourself in the mirror. I don't care what size you where before you got pregnant, you're now fat. Admit it. Go ahead, it'll make you feel better. There is probably not one darn thing in your closet from your pre-baby wardrobe that will fit you. Your breasts either got too big or your hips, but either way, you're not fitting into it. And you probably never will again. Might as well, just pack it all up and give it to good will is my perspective. You will also find that when you shop for clothes that will now fit the wider, more exhausted you--that you look for stuff that you can wash and you don't really care if there's spit up on it. Durability now becomes key.
And as you start lamenting the fact that you don't have time to watch television, take a bath, brush your teeth, apply makeup or have a moment of free time (and hate everyone else that does) your baby will just smile right up at you, and you'll think--aw...who needs brushed hair anyway...and you'll hug him and wonder what was it you were upset about just second before? And that's how you're certain you are now a Mom.
I knew I was a Mom when I traded in my Vogue subscription for Better Home and Gardens. It wasn't even a conscious decision, but one that just happened naturally when all of a sudden I thought that the recipe featured in the copy at the pediatrician's office seemed really interesting. This, from a woman who thought boiling water to make pasta was cooking.
It was shocking enough to enter "wifedom" where you all of a sudden find yourself packing your husband a lunch and fussing about the house and scheduling weekends, but no one prepares you for motherhood. You'd think the nine months of carrying the baby would do it, but it's not even close.
Motherhood it's been said is a vocation. And it's the truth. When you have a baby, you can pretty much kiss pedicures, haircuts, eyebrow waxes and any other creature comforts you used to have a fond goodbye. They'll to be revisited when you're child is a bit older and you can have a teenage baby sitter come watch the child. And sure, you might have people offer to come watch your baby for a hour or so, so you can feel like a well kept person again, but let's face it--when they're asking you to "pick a color" at the nail salon, all you're really thinking about is how the baby is doing and whether or not he's happy. How in the world is that relaxing?
And you find that a good night's sleep is forever OVER. Gone. Forget it. Never going to happen. I hear from other Moms that when they're eighteen year old is out, they can't sleep until they walk into the door--let alone the baby that can't sleep more than four hours in a row. You'll actually start dreaming that your baby is crying. You'll hear your baby crying even when he's not crying--and quiet will make you nervous because you wonder when the crying is going to actually start again. It really is the strangest thing.
You'll also find that other Moms refuse to admit that they had or are having a hard time balancing wife, mother, woman, professional and human being at the same time. You'll see them all dressed up and just perky, while you're in a pony tail and sweats for the last three days and still can't remember if you showered. These super Moms will always ask, "How are you doing?" Which really makes you want to punch them out, because take a look at you--your a nightmare walking around on legs that are two sizes bigger than before you became a Mom. And you KNOW these super Moms have to be on an anti-depressant or have a sleep-at-home nanny.
And let's face it. Look at yourself in the mirror. I don't care what size you where before you got pregnant, you're now fat. Admit it. Go ahead, it'll make you feel better. There is probably not one darn thing in your closet from your pre-baby wardrobe that will fit you. Your breasts either got too big or your hips, but either way, you're not fitting into it. And you probably never will again. Might as well, just pack it all up and give it to good will is my perspective. You will also find that when you shop for clothes that will now fit the wider, more exhausted you--that you look for stuff that you can wash and you don't really care if there's spit up on it. Durability now becomes key.
And as you start lamenting the fact that you don't have time to watch television, take a bath, brush your teeth, apply makeup or have a moment of free time (and hate everyone else that does) your baby will just smile right up at you, and you'll think--aw...who needs brushed hair anyway...and you'll hug him and wonder what was it you were upset about just second before? And that's how you're certain you are now a Mom.
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