Thursday, March 31, 2011


I received a very nice text one morning from my husband which told how beautiful I looked that day and that he hadn't said anything to me as we were rushing around during the usual morning routine. What? Me? I glanced down at my uniform of jeans and a top of some sort and wondered what in the world had I done to evoke such a reaction?! And, then I realized that, on this day, I had bathed.

Hey, sometimes in this life, bathing can be a luxury! My vanity has long since been squelched by the countless episodes of feces smearing, public tantrums and sleepless nights over the past decade. For, in reality, as much as I try to avoid it from happening, there is never a reliable schedule of events that happen daily in our house. Showering has become a luxury, and I'm usually able to fit it in without naturally inquisitive children or a four-alarm emergency by sneaking it in the dark minutes just before daylight each day. It's my only peace, and, even then, it is stolen.

Sometimes, I'm just too tired to get up that early for the sole purpose of primping. Sometimes, I MUST get up to do it because it is the only thing that keeps me going. I'm guessing from my husband's reaction that I haven't been making enough of an effort to get up early to do it.

However, I'm the first to admit that I am not Superwoman. And, when my older son has pulled an all-night, one-man party in his room, I'll be darned if I'm going to get up at dawn to put on mascara and fluff my hair. Besides, he'll only blow snot rockets in that hair after breakfast, anyway.

When I was in college, I used to spend my grocery money on clothes. That really fabulous skirt was much more important to me that a square meal. I didn't dare consider leaving my home without makeup, and, while it isn't my favorite thing now, sometimes I am tumbleweed being blown through the events of my morning, and I just don't realize that I haven't put an ounce of energy into my appearance. It could be noon before I look in the mirror, and even then it is an accidental glance as I'm passing by one on the way upstairs.

How can I live this life and be a supermodel? Wouldn't that be great? How wonderful it would be to chase after these energetic little ones in six-inch Louboutins with my golden locks freshly curled and flowing in the wind. Picture skinny jeans and a Kardashian-worthy top, and, family wouldn't recognize me. Hahaha!

One can dream. I think I'm going to buy myself a pair of six-inch heels for the Mom Cave. Yes! I am going to slip those bad boys on when I sneak in here and reclaim my inner goddess as I type away. It can be my little reminder to myself that, even when I don't shower for the day, I totally rock.

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