Mamas on Parade

Before I gave birth, I prided myself in my extensive wardrobe. Now, I certainly wasn’t lucky wealthy enough to wear Chanel or Dior , but I did wear Banana Republi c, Ann Taylor, and J. Crew. Clothes were important to me. Clothes were one of the ways I expressed who I was (or at least who the stores thought I was that season). These days, as a stay at home mom, I find myself wearing White House Black Market less and less and Old Navy more and more. Not that there is anything wrong with Old Navy, but there is something wrong with the fact that I don’t even wear Old Navy jeans and blouses. No, I wear Old Navy sweatpants and *gasp* pajama pants most days.

Of course, this leaves me wondering if I’m the only slacker stay-at-home mom out there. Is it just that I personally don’t put in the effort when other moms do? Are there really stay-at-home moms that bother with the decent clothes, make up, and earrings everyday? I mean, I try. Every morning, I find myself once again in my closet petting my beautiful clothes. Some mornings I’ll even slip on a favorite Loft top only to find myself quickly hanging it back up and reaching for my sweats thinking to myself that if Linus wiped his booger-y nose on that blouse, it would cost $12 to dry clean. That’s my excuse anyway… dry cleaning bills. In truth, I think my wardrobe choice has more to do with my state of mind then laundering costs. If the only people who are going to see what I have on today are my husband and my one year old, why should I bother getting all gussied up?

Today, though, I bothered. I had some place to go. Linus and I were meeting up with some friends for the regular Wednesday morning sing along out at the Southpoint Pottery Barn Kids. I absolutely couldn’t show up at Southpoint wearing pajama pants and a tank top. Southpoint is for parading and this time I couldn’t just worry about Linus’s wardrobe, I had to worry about mine. I can’t even tell you how long I stood there in my closet staring at those clothes wondering what would look good enough but still be comfortable enough to wrestle Linus into his carseat and come out still looking okay. I eventually settled on one of my favorite Loft tops in black that shows nary a wrinkle and I paired it with my skinny-day (not skinny) jeans from the Buckle. I hesitated between wearing my usual flip-flops or bothering with another more sophisticated shoe eventually settling on the old stand-by flops since it was pouring rain and whatever shoes I wore would end up saturated.

I donned my clothes, even bothering with a simple black bracelet, grabbed Linus (always the fashion icon), and headed for the door. Forgetting that I hadn’t yet restocked the diaper bag, I set Linus down and dashed back to his room for a diaper and a bib and spoon and a sippy cup and a… That’s when the discomfort began. I was beginning to sweat with all that hurried supply gathering and my jeans began to feel a bit too tight. Ignoring my discomfort, I grabbed Linus, the diaper bag, and my now tepid Starbucks and headed out the door. Wrestling my keys out of my too tight pocket, I nearly drop Linus before managing to unlock the door. I try to toss the bag into the front seat while setting my Starbucks cup on the roof of the car when Linus reaches for my bracelet he’s just noticed, knocking the Starbucks out of my hand, all over the car, and into a waiting puddle. Sweat begins pooling in the small of my back. I dump the bag onto the floorboard, wrestle Linus into his carseat, recover my now empty cup, start the car, and crank the air conditioner.

Arriving at Southpoint, feeling cooler, I slide Linus into my Nest sling and head inside. As we sit waiting for the sing-along to begin, I look around. All the moms look lovely with pretty cashmere cardigans, 7 for All Mankind jeans, perfectly coordinated jewelry, and colorful rain boots. Grateful that I took the time to put on make-up, I can’t help wondering if all the moms in the room look this good every day or if, like me, a trip out to a sing-along amounts to a special occasion. I’m hoping it’s the former, but either way, I’m thinking I should probably try to make more of an effort on a daily basis if for nothing else than the water weight I’ll lose in sweat while wrestling with Linus.

Crossposted at Triangle Mamas.