Mommy Needs a Makeover?

While I have been busy being someone else's mom, I have started to let myself go, apparently. I didn't realize it had gotten so bad until last night when I was at Art Night with Mia. We were sitting at a table in the school cafeteria while she worked on her shell creature craft. That's when Random Teenage Boy on the opposite side of the table informed me, "My mom has that exact same sweatshirt." At this, I stopped and looked at myself. I wasn't even wearing a sweatshirt. Whew! Dodged that one, right? Then, he looked at me pointedly and repeated himself, this time somewhat louder, "My mom has that exact same sweatshirt." Although his words had no inflection whatsoever, making it impossible to tell how he felt about this, it was now clear that he was, in fact, speaking to me. Then, I understood that he was referring to my very boring, basic, blue fleece jacket that I was wearing for pure practicality of the in-between seasons weather we are having. Obviously, I knew it wasn't high fashion when I put it on, but I had not really cared at the time. Now, I am rethinking this...

Especially after this morning's trip to the Kroger pharmacy. I have another sinus infection, which makes five since school started. UGH! Frankly, though, my misery of having yet another sinus infection has been paled by the exchange between Pharmacy Boy and myself. I have seen this particular kid before and wondered how old someone has to be to work there. He needed the pharmacist to verify the prescriptions before he could hand them over to me. While ringing up my antibiotic and nasal spray, he said something that made me inwardly cringe. It was, "Thanks, MOM... I mean, ma'am!" Oh my! I could tell that he was pretty mortified, something akin to when you think, I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. So I said nothing, because truly, what could I say that would make that situation any less awkward? And just for the record, unless I had a very busy "extracurricular life" in say, eighth grade, I am not nearly old enough to be this boy's mother!

Ever since this experience, I have put in more of an effort with my appearance, or at least I think I have tried harder. It seems that I may be sliding a bit in this department, though, considering these two highly embarrassing moments that have taken place within the past 24 hours. Barring any recent scientific advancements that would allow me to get an injection of much-needed self-confidence (alas, I am aware of no such treatments), I think it may now be time to consider a mommy makeover. To be clear, I am not desiring to be more attractive to teenage boys. However, I would settle for looking like less of an obvious MOM-type figure to them. Is that too much to ask for?

But I'm Not That Old!

Age is an issue of mind over matter.  If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.        ~Mark Twain

On Mother's Day, our pastor's sermon included a description of "Millennial Moms" as an illustration of how moms make a difference in the marketplace today. (At least that's what I got out of it, and am recalling at this point in time, 3 and a half weeks later.) Anyway, I got more and more excited as he described these "Millennial Moms" because they sounded just like me. Millennial Moms are the ones who brought about mini vans, he said, because station wagons just weren't cutting it anymore. Hey, I thought, I drive a mini van! "Millennial Moms" are eco-conscious, he went on, and more and more often they are using cloth diapers. Again, this struck a chord with me. I am nothing but passionate about Logan's FuzziBunz! Lastly, "Millennial Moms" are blogging. Um, duh. That's totally me! Right?

But then our pastor's description of these awesome new moms took a turn downhill. He mentioned that they were between the ages of 18-29. Just when I had been looking at Brett and thinking happily that I was a part of some cool new group of totally with-it hip moms, he whispered to me, "You're too old." Okay, that is true, I thought but can't I just eke by? This was only a few days before my 32nd birthday, which isn't all that much more than 29. I mean, what's 3 little years difference? And what happened to Brett saying that once I got to 29 I could just continue to be 29? Ouch!

I had gotten over this, because, well, secretly I decided that I met all of the other criteria for "Millennial Mom" and so decided that I must be one. And then my future sister-in-law came to town along with her mom and sister, and they were interested in going wine tasting. Not being much of a drinker, I checked into this and found a couple of places that weren't too far away. We had a good time at the first. I even found a wine I liked, which has never happened before, ever. My mom was ecstatic that she had to show her id; the server simply asked everyone for it before we got started. I later decided that this was an excellent idea and that they should card everyone no matter where you go. It's just plain diplomatic. 

At the second winery, I went to use the bathroom first thing. When I returned, I asked if he had carded everyone. "Not yet," was the response from the server (who I later found out is the owner of the winery and really needs to brush up on his people skills!), but I only need to see theirs anyway," he said referring to Kristin (my future SIL) and her sister. I was crushed. And just a bit annoyed. And I have been stewing about it since Saturday. I keep trying to figure out how old I must have looked to him to not warrant checking my id. I had touched up my makeup and fixed my hair before we left, and I thought that I was stylishly dressed in an early-thirties kind of way (not trying to look younger, mind you, but still with the current decade...) The best explanation I have come up with is that I am a mom and I look like I am a mom, therefore, I look old enough to drink... and then some, apparently. I feel a bit sad about this, but I'll get over it. (I hope.)

It's sad to grow old, but nice to ripen.  ~Brigitte Bardot

The Guilt Factor

No one tells you that when you become a mom, you will leave the hospital with a sweet little bundle of joy and a gigantic side order of guilt. It starts out small with little new mom insecurities (why don't I feel bonded to my baby?--she's been inside of me for months!) and can grow to be a huge part of your life if you allow it to. I will note that there are some factors beyond your control i.e. postpartum depression, which I experienced after having Mia. It can be overwhelming to deal with the guilt and anxiety, especially the first time around, so I am a big fan of knowing yourself and knowing when you need to ask for professional help. Even with counseling and medication, I have found that the guilt never goes away.

Sometimes, I think it is worse now that I have two children because I have two little people who count on me in addition to husband, house, and dog. Moms have so many balls to juggle, we need about 8 arms to keep them all up in the air. Obviously, we only have the two arms, so something has to give. There are days when I think that something is my sanity!

Then the guilt sneaks in. It has a way of grabbing hold when we are feeling exhausted, frustrated, and disappointed with ourselves for not being able to be all things to all people (which face it, isn't realistic!) I hear that annoying little voice of guilt telling me that I need to be more patient, need to spend more time with each of the kids individually, need to get more housework done, need to spend more time playing outside, need to give the dog more attention, need to work on communicating better with my husband, and it goes on and on. The guilt chips away at my self-confidence, making me feel like I am letting everyone down. I feel even more guilty when I start to think I need a break from it all. The most ironic part of all is when I feel guilty for wanting me time. It's a vicious cycle of guilt I have yet to break away from (and I suspect that I never will). So, I self-medicate with chocolate!