When was the last time you did a walk of shame? Yes, I know it's an interesting question coming from the "mom" of the group, but I'm actually playing above board on this one. In my world, the walk of shame is what I call the power walk past the other parents as I drop my kids off to school/camp/whatever. Why is this walk shameful? Because I'm wearing whatever random articles of clothing I managed to throw together in 3 minutes just so we wouldn't be late.
On the worst days, there is no teeth brushing, or hair combing, or even a quick swipe of deodorant. I reach into my closet and grab the easiest things to put on, usually sweat pants, some random t-shirt, and an uncoordinated sweatshirt (even in the summer, this combination is my best bet for not looking like a total freak show - other than being the chick in the sweats on a sweltering summer day). On the best days, I maybe get a chance to throw water on my face and brush my teeth, but with no hair and makeup, I still look like death warmed over.
Anyway, once we're out the the door and safely headed towards our destination, I always have a momentary sense of victory. "Hey, we totally got ready in 8 minutes this time. We won't even be late!" That pride is always momentary. As we approach our final destination, a feeling of dread begins to wash over me as the full impact of my hotmessness hits me. And it's right about that time that I see them - perfectly coifed, well manicured, and holding a piping hot skinny mocha grandes (hold the whip).
How the eff to these women always look so damn perfect? To be clear, I'm not judging them (well, yes I probably am, but that's not the point of this post). Honestly, I'm a little jealous. If any of them aren't wearing bras - it's an intentional choice (made possible by a great perky boob job); for me, it means I failed to locate one in my 10 second rummage through my lingerie drawer. Unlike their tall and skinny black yoga pants, the sweatpants I'm wearing probably have holes in all the wrong places and a couple in the crotch too (here's hoping a bra is the only undergarment I'm missing). They are wearing "outfits" and I'm wearing something that even the stoner chick from my freshman year dorm would have passed on.
The thing about this walk of shame? It comes with swift and immediate judgment, almost always doled out in the form of a seemingly benign question, such as "You must be so busy working these days. How do you get it all done?" Listen biatch, clearly I don't! You know, I know it, everybody who can see knows it - I have failed today, failed to be a "perfect" mom. It always made me feel bad, often worse then getting cussed out at work by my boss. I vowed not to do it again and failed to live up to that vow. It always nagged at me until...
I realized that my total and complete ridiculousness on these kinds of mornings is a future memory for me and my kids to laugh about. We can reminicse about our crazy morning races out of the house, the kids can finally admit that they knew how ridiculous I looked, and I will finally admit that I prefered the additional sleep (over getting up early enough to try to impress the unimpressible uber moms). I mean, think about it, there is nothing amusing about a perfectly perfect mom always getting you to school/camp/whatever on time. Nothing. My oldest has this memory: on a particularly late fall morning, I noticed (about two minutes away from school) that my white t-shirt was hiding nothing. I turned to the kid and said "Mommy needs to borrow your sweatshirt." Kid's response "You said I needed it because it might get cold later." I looked down at my shirt again and replied "Apparently, it's cold now. You'll be fine, you're a kid, a little cold won't kill you." Someday, years from now, this conversation will make sense to her in a way it absolutely did not that morning. Since that realization will be so far removed from the actual events of the day, embarrassment will quickly fade to laughter and she'll think to herself "My mom was freakin' nuts."
At least, that's what I hope will happen. If you have proof to the contrary, please DO NOT share.
SOURCE: City Rag
No comments:
Post a Comment