It's a fashion show every time I go to pick up my little one from his elementary school. All the Supermodel Mamas line up around the playground waiting for their kids to come running out of school.
I always look at them...then I look at myself in my usual yoga pants and long slimming black jacket accessorized with my hardly-ever-used running shoes. I look like I just stepped out of a gym except I am not sweating, I am fat and I have the same thing on every Monday and Tuesday afternoon.
And I always have good intentions when I dress like this every Monday morning. I think A) I can either put on something nice and ruin it when cleaning the house or B) I could wear clothes that didnt matter if I spill a little bleach on AND I dont have to change later when I go on my weekly run (that I have been planning to do for over a year now). Once I finish up my chores and Baby Daddy gets home, I can just skip out of the door and go for my 3 mile run that NEVER happens.
So by the time I pick up my son from Fashion Show Elementary, I am so high on Clorox fumes and Mop-n-glow, I don't care what I look like. Until...I get the stares from the fashion queens...the shame... the judgement. Then I usually crouch down to talk to my daughter until my son runs out and we run to escape on my bike.
But I really started thinking about these mamas. Where do they find the time to brush their hair, much less put on a ton of makeup and dress in the latest fashion. Not to mention, where do they get the money to buy such fancy clothes? I make a really decent salary and now with two crumb-crunchers I barely have enough money to buy new granny pantys.
I can't figure it out and I have to just give up and be happy that I am the Rag-a-muffin mama, who works part-time and spends the rest of my free time working full time in the house and for my family. This is the real me...a rag-a-muffin mama!