Then there was me, standing in my sweatpants and old t-shirt. Now, in my defense, I had been cooking and cleaning, but it was still not my best fashion look. After she left, I looked in the mirror at my sad hair and tomato-sauce stained shirt and fantasized about how the blouse I saw in a catalog would look on me. I could get something new, too! But then I thought, 'Where would I wear it?"
All afternoon I have thought about those new clothes. And all afternoon I have thought of where I would wear them. The conclusion I have come to is that I don't take myself out enough. I am committed to everything but myself. Cleaning, Girl Scouts, soccer practice, grocery shopping, and laundry are some of the tasks that occupy my days, none of which require a fabulous new outfit. I find myself contemplating when it was that I took a back seat to everything and everyone. I am not sure exactly, but I think it has to do with baby vomit on a new dress. And if you know baby vomit, that is some toxic stuff. So all good things went to the back of the closet, and t-shirts became the uniform du jour.
Over time, going out was replaced by staying in. Dinners for two replaced by dinners for three, then four, then five. I don't regret a minute of family life. I just wish that "my time" hadn't gotten lost in the family shuffle. Completely my fault and something I am going to work on ASAP. Starting with a new outfit. And someplace to wear it. Stay tuned!