Another year….another birthday. SIGH…..You know, other than 30 and maybe 25, they all just start to blend together. No on ever seems to remember what they did for their 34th birthday….or their 22nd for that matter.
I think, essentially, there are two ways to look at birthdays. Some folks experience birthdays with a certain sadness for time that has passed. Thinking back, often with rose colored glasses, to their glory days. Or maybe they are sad because someone they love has passed and can no longer spend their birthdays with them. I look at birthdays in a forward thinking sort of way. I try to examine what has happened in the past year, learn something from it, and look forward to what the next year can bring. What do I want to learn in the coming year? What would I like to accomplish?I don’t feel like I am getting old. On a daily basis, I don’t “feel” differently than I did at 18. Oh, my run times are slower, I can see more wrinkles and certainly having 3 kids has done it’s share of damage to my body. But all in all, I think age is sneaking up on me….or, quite possibly, I am in denial. HA!
One thing I am definitely trying to do is to fight the Stay-At-Home-Mom frumpiness that can settle in so easily. So many SAHM moms spend so much time taking care of their husbands and children and the dog and the fish and the cat and the hamster, that they put themselves last on their list. It’s a list they can never get to the end of. It’s a slippery slope….first you start out getting your hair ”styled” so all you have to do to leave the house is pull it back….the bra is probably the next thing to go…who needs a boost when what you are really after is comfort? Somewhere in there is the jeans….you give up on those cute midrise bootleg jeans for a pair of “Mommy jeans”. Jeans that come all the way up to your armpits, make your butt look like a beachball, but fit perfectly under that oversized tshirt or sweatshirt. And of course….old, heavy tennis shoes go great with those “Mommy jeans”. Makeup is rarely applied and is limited to church and special occassions. And the next thing you know, frumpy has set in.
Don’t get me wrong, I understand…..the cashier at Target could care less if you are wearing makeup when you and your 3 screaming kids check out. The multiplication problems your 5th grader must learn don’t care if your hair is in a scrunchy or styled perfectly. The 2 year old could care less how “perky” you are when she falls on the floor in a temper tantrum.
But I have decided that I am going to fight it. OH…I’m not running out to get those leopard print spandext pants to wear to park day. And I certainly am not getting a “hot momma” sticker for the van. I REFUSE to show my belly button in public or get anything (other than my ear) pierced. My jeans will not go so low that I show my “muffin top” to the entire population of Northern Virginia. I’m not trying to lose my dignity after all! But I will keep on running and learning and growing. I will park the 2 year old in front of the TV so I can take a few minutes to shower and get dressed. I will by new clothes, on occasion, that call for a hand wash or even an iron. (GASP!) I will get my hair cut on a regular basis. I can do all those things AND take care of the kids with craft projects and baking brownies, but you had better believe I’m going to be doing it with a cute apron on!
