a little perspective goes a long way

 me, at 2 o'clock. no make up. bed isn't made. no plans for dinner...yet.

a word of advice, actually the only advice my mother gave me, the day before i married. "don't let yourself go" she said, "always take care of yourself, no matter how poor you are, buy that color lipstick or special lotion, always".  and yes, i am so 1950's deep in my soul that i took it to heart. to always take care of myself. to always look nice. because i'm not going to be that frump a lump mom. not me. my husband will be proud to come home (however anti-feminist that sounds, that's what matters to me). and so, ever since marriage i have gave a valiant effort to take care of myself. and taking care of myself to me is being happy. and i'm happy when i'm healthy, in shape and always learning. so i exercise, try to eat well (good gracious, it is hard), wear nice clothes, read good books. etc. etc. whatever i could to feel beautiful. which includes for me having a nice clean home and cooking awesome food.

and just the other day the repairman came to look at my washer and dryer. after he left i walked into the bathroom, the only room in the house with a mirror (thank goodness). and there i was, this frumpy, muffin-top, scraggly hair, crow's feet, gray hairs, spit-up on shirt, stay at home mom. i looked spent. used up. like i was ready for the compost pile. "when did this happen?" i thought. when did i let myself go? why hasn't anyone said anything?  yes, i get fancied up for church on sunday and date nights on the weekend. but when on earth did i start walking around like this during the day?

i think i might be depressed. that's my only solution. why else would i consider painted on jeans and a too tight shirt that is stained to go visit jess today? with no make-up.  i didn't even brush my hair. i've been holding on for dear life since we've moved. literally some days by teeth and nails. and at night after i read to the girls, and we all say prayers and tuck them in. walk all the way down the hall, sit down on a chair. start to exhale and WHAM we hear a little girl whining or running down the hall, i need more water! she won't share a book!" bawahwahwahwahwahwah (think charlie brown's teacher). and that's when  i kind of lose it. "GET IN BED!" i scream. yes, lately i have been screaming. this is when i know it's time for a little "me" time. annie needs a break. especially since phoebe has turned into a "mommy must hold me and entertain me all hours of the day unless i'm sleeping or eating" kind of baby. and lucy is biting her fingers down to little bloody nubs and abby is crapping in her pull-up every night that she has a diaper rash.

and no, i'm not saying that i need a "vacay" as people put it. blech. i don't need pampering or a massage or a pedicure (though that would be nice for my newly cracked desert feet). i don't need people to tell me i'm doing a great bang up job (because actually two nice women did tell me that this past week and i'm still walking around like a zombie).

i need to just start taking care of MYSELF too. you know, like in the airplane last month. the flight attendant walked down the aisle after giving the "how to" instructions in case we totally biff it and nose dive to death. she stopped only to talk to me, the one with the baby. "you need to give yourself the air first" she said as she jabbed the face mask in my direction. "ok" i nodded up and down and mouthed because phoebe was being quiet for that millisecond.  and yes, i know people use this analogy all the time but it hit me. i'm a mom, i'm in charge of three human beings 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. i don't get lunch breaks (although nap time is awesome, it's not the same) or have my workday end at 5 or weekends off or maternity leave for crying out loud. i don't get bonuses or christmas break or petty cash drawers. and i'm not complaining. i love my job. i wanted this job. it is what i've always wanted. i sacrificed many things to get this position. but the key point of all this bantering (and i salute anyone who's still reading) is this: i'm a boss with one of the hardest jobs of them all. the consequences of if i do a crappy job are innumerable. and, this is the kicker, my girls will end up being JUST LIKE ME. so it is more than imperative that i have to take care of myself first. if i'm not gettin' oxygen, everyone else will suffocate also. or as my mom says, "if mom isn't happy, nobody is happy". amen.

and so, tonight,  i'll don my speedo swimming suit on and bob up and down in the water in an attempt to work out in the heat. and then i'll try and find my workout videos in one of the 100 boxes still in my house. i read about how a family friend moved into their house and unpacked everything the first day. i'm still in awe at that. i'll shower and put make-up on, not that that is what is required to take care of yourself, but it is for me. i'll wear a shirt, without stains that fits. that is, if i can find one. i'll be more consistent with my scripture reading in the afternoon.  and i'll finish reading this book. because i love it. but i feel overwhelmed reading it, like how can i do all this on top of everything else? but it's ok. baby steps. baby steps to moving into my house. baby steps to taking better care of myself. baby steps to not screaming at my children. baby steps out of the elevator.

i love what about bob. best movie ever.