So, I have a few stories to tell. 2 sweet ones and a not so sweet one that has me doing some self-evalution.
First, the sweet ones:
BF and I both worked from home this morning before I had to leave for a luncheon. Not long after I left, my cell phone rang and it was BF. “What’s up?” I answered, and he told me that Lola had started to whine when I left the house and ran to my office window to watch me back out of the driveway and then to the other office window to watch me drive down the street. All while whining. Maybe she does like me as much as she likes BF. Okay, that’s a stretch. Maybe she does like me.
My sister called me to say that when she went to pick up my sweet nephew at Mother’s Morning Out, she noticed that one of the little girls had the cutest holiday dress on. It was the day of the holiday pageant and so most of the kids were all dolled up for their performances of Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Jingle Bells. Anyway, my sister looked at the little girl and said, “You look so pretty!” and the little girl smiled sweetly up to my sister and said, “Yes, I know.” Isn’t that just the greatest? She’s too young to have all of our body image crap globbed on to her yet. She just knows that if she wears a dress that she thinks is pretty, well, then, of course, she looks pretty. Wouldn’t it be just fabulous if we could all hold on to that unabashedness, that lack of self critique for the rest of our lives? I want my mind to be 35 but my body image to be that of a 3 year old’s.
Which brings me to story number 3, my sour one.
Planning when I will get ready in a day (or whether or not I get ready in a day) is all based around my workout, my high maintenance hair, and whether or not I have a set appointment outside of the house on any given day. This just means that my life is very sporadic. Yesterday, I lifted weights and did some sprints at the gym bright and early, but I knew I needed to get more cardio in before showering. On my calendar for the day was a lunch at noon and by the time I got home from the gym and my wits about me it was almost 8:30. If I don’t start my day productively by 8:30, the whole work day is shot for me. It’s a weird quirk of mine that will need to get revised with motherhood but for now is still so. Anway, I decided to do my cardio at 4 pm, shower at 5 pm to be ready for a 6pm departure for our anniversary dinner. Well, it seeemed silly to change out of my yoga pants and sweatshirt to have lunch with two girlfriends if I wasn’t showered and was just going to get back into my workout clothes when I got home so I stayed in my sweats for our lunch date. And wouldn’t you know that we went to a cute little place and I ran into all sorts of people that I haven’t seen in forever. I was withdrawn and shy and just tried to get to and from my table with as little chatting as possible so not to draw attention to the fact that I was grossly underdressed. Anyway, I figured they probably didn’t notice my attire because I rarely notice that about other people. Except today I ran into one of the people from yesterday at a luncheon (that I was appropriately dressed for) and the first thing she said was, “Oh, wow, you look completely different.” Well, yes, I do look different showered and in regular clothes. But the truth is I can’t expect anyone to know that because I spend way too much time in my workout clothes and not just on the days where I am only working from home and walk outside for nothing. Suffice to say it was a bit of a wake up call. Stacey and Clinton from What Not to Wear would have a field day with me. Although they would be so confused when they got to my closet because they’d see I have some cute, figure appropriate clothes. I just don’t wear them because then I would have to shower, do my hair, and put on makeup and after working from home for a while now, I don’t really remember how to do my hair or make-up (and it shows). I’m like the woman who has a bevy of kids and lets herself go because something has got to give except I don’t have a bevy of kids. The freelance life has been good in many ways, but this is one way that it hasn’t been good. And it’s not that I buy into anyone else’s beauty standards– cause I don’t– I am just fine with my own. It’s that there is something to be said for making an effort. It makes you feel differently. I haven’t been making much of an effort lately, and I so don’t want to be embarrassed by a What Not to Wear ambush (although I would take the $5000 shopping spree with Stacy and Clinton in a minute). I think I will make a my New Year’s resolution to make an effort on the days that I need to leave the house. That doesn’t mean surrendering my workout gear completely. It just means wearing it at the appropriate time.