Hot Mama!!

So the other day a dear, sweet friend of ours came by the house to pass back some baby gear and since Hubba Hubba was in quarantine with Strep Throat she wisely chose to stay outside. I ran out quick to thank her and chat for a spell. While out talking to her a shocking realization hit me. I was being surrounded by bugs! I was trying to be discrete and swoosh the pests away but to no avail. It got to the point where I actually had to draw attention to it as I was beginning to think she may believe I had lost it. We giggled about it for a minute and then it dawned on me...I had not showered in TWO DAYS! Perhaps this could be why I was being engulfed by nasty insects. Perhaps I was, in fact, the nasty one. So this brought me to a further musing regarding my present state of affairs and the thought was brought forward "When the hell did showering become a luxury?" As quickly as I asked, I answered and the answer was clear...March 11, 2007--my daughter's birth day.

Since that day pretty much every aspect of self-care and primping has fallen to the wayside. Look, I am even putting a shower in the category of "primping." Not hygiene...primping! So I embarked on a spell of self-criticism--which is never a good thing when you are in my mind. And came to realize all of the other things that had fallen off the list of priorities...

I can't remember the last time I wore a full face of make-up just for the hell of it. It has to be an EXTRA special occasion (like actually leaving the compound for a meal) to render this bonus. This coming from the girl who, freshman year of college, swam twice a day and insisted upon a full make-up application and wardrobe change after each practice. Now THAT was a full-time job. Where did she go?

And my hair...well, after Hubba Hubba told me he hated the bangs that I had cut in June I have been so petrified to have scissors taken to my head that I have just let it go crazy. My girl's pre-school teacher noticed the pain-staking time I took with Mya's curls for the Halloween parade. Then proceed to joke "And you've clearly done your hair as well! HA!" Yes, I recognize the oversight :) And while we are on the subject of hair, I realized that my legs had gone entirely neglected as well. It's times like these I'm grateful that I don't have dark hair as I would have quickly been on my way to dressing up as a werewolf for Halloween. I fear if I were to take a really close look at my eyebrows they would be screaming for emergency evacuation as well. So I have chosen to stay away from any extreme closeups in the mirror. This serves me ten-fold.

I then thought back to a conversation I had with Hubba Hubba a few days earlier and I actually uttered the phrase "my nice sweats." There is now a differentiation between shitty shit clothes and not-so shitty shit clothes? The major determining factor is whether or not said article of clothing is stained with paint. REALLY? I mean, I have never been a fashionista but this is ridiculous! I kid you not, I tried to throw together something other than sweats the other day, looked in the mirror and the first thing that came to my mind was "Wow, you look like a homeless woman!" OUCH!

I married a personal trainer and haven't seen the consistency of gym life since that day in the delivery room. Gaining 30 pounds with the 1st, losing 70 then gaining 50 pounds with the 2nd and losing as much again has done unkind things to the frame and its surrounding areas. I mean, how far can this rubber band stretch? The only saving grace in that department has been the fact that I nursed a small cow for over a year and his fighting weight is a cool 30 pounds. Lifting that 4,000 times a day along with chasing after the 2 mini monsters has managed to keep up the facade.

After thinking of all of these horrendous oversights I found myself wondering how my hubby can stay married to such an unfortunate troll. This certainly is not the person he married...on any level. I've easily aged 10 years in the past 4 as the guy in the grocery kindly brought to light. Asked me if I was in my late 30's. UGH! Apparently I'm not the only one that noticed. So will this madness ever end? I know I'm not the only one but I also see tons of mom's who haven't fallen victim to this pitfall. I see them in the store and wonder "How the hell does she do it?" I dismiss such sightings as mirages or simply delusions rooting from sleep deprivation. I also realize that I need to MAKE time for such niceties. I guess I'm just consumed with being with my kids and documenting every little thing they do (obviously). I'm told so frequently to cherish this time with them, because one day I will miss it. Regardless of all of my bitching, I truly believe this and am choosing to finally listen to the wise words of those who have parented before me. Long lost are the days of "Katie Knows Best." Turns out those days were all a hoax.

Perhaps it's just that my focus has changed. It's no longer about me and I am celebrating that fact to the extreme. Maybe I am the ultimate martyr. Or maybe I have finally grown up and realized there is more to life than appearances. Regardless of troll status, my husband loves the woman that is trying her best to raise their children. Looks like those children are pretty fond of her as well. I guess when I look in the mirror THAT is what I see and that is what matters. I have a feeling my babies aren't going to remember that I skipped a shower or two while they were little. Or didn't dress to the nines all the while. I hope they will remember rolling in the leaves on a warm autumn day with their mom who adored them like no other human being on this planet could. THIS is what I am celebrating to the extreme. This beautiful thing called "Life." Now let's LIVE IT!