For the past couple of years, I’ve been a work-from-home mom (and, before that, a pregnant lady) in a one-car family. As a result, most days I had no cause or ability to venture out […]
For the past couple of years, I’ve been a work-from-home mom (and, before that, a pregnant lady) in a one-car family. As a result, most days I had no cause or ability to venture out of our neighborhood. As a result of that, over time, I became completely comfortable—too comfortable—wearing my “plain” face (you know, the one that scares small children), sweeping my hair into a ponytail and keeping on my pajamas until mid-morning. Every. Single. Day.
Of course, when I went out in public, I would “fix” myself, but when I was at home, it was a whole different story. I was a closet slob.
I say was because I have turned over a new leaf. A week or two back, I read somewhere that moms should make a point to take a few minutes out of their morning to put themselves together for the day—hair, makeup, nice clothes, the whole shebang. The logic went that you would not only look better but feel better throughout the day. It would boost productivity, improve your love life, and increase your odds of winning the lottery. (Okay, so I lied about that last one.)
I’m not one to jump on every advice column bandwagon I come across, but I figured “What the hey-howdy-hey, I’ll give this one a try for a week.”
The results have been amazing.
I don’t dread the doorbell ringing. I don’t go into a mad dash to put on my face before my husband gets home—or, worse, feel blah because I didn’t go into a mad dash. My house is organized from top to bottom, the cars are spic and span, the refrigerator and freezer are stocked with healthy, yummy meals, we’ve hosted multiple friends and family throughout the week, and my kid and husband are happy as can be. All because of a little lipstick.
If I had known earlier that putting myself together in the morning would morph me into supermom, I would never have gotten out of the routine.
I first fell out of the makeup habit during my months of sickness when I was pregnant with Jacob. At the time, it didn’t seem worth the effort. (And, on the days I was vomiting a dozen times a day, it probably wasn’t.)
But now that I’m in normal human form (I’ve been throw-up free for over a month now!)—I have no excuse not to put on my “Southern lady uniform” everyday. And I intend to do just that even when—or, rather, especially when—Baby Girl arrives.
I know that being a mom of two is going to mean that much more work, and so I’m thrilled that I discovered now, before our new bundle arrives, that looking better will help me better handle whatever my to-do list throws my way.
I’ve always known that being a mom, and a pregnant mom at that, doesn’t mean you have to plod about in sweats and a ponytail anymore than it meant you had to waltz about like June Cleaver in heels and a dress, but I wasn’t sure where that middle ground was for me. Finally, I have found my happy medium, and, if you ask me, it’s a lovely place.