on feeling sorry

Sometimes it takes a few moments (or hours) of feeling sorry for yourself to turn around and kick yourself in the ass… So here’s the story. I left the house the other day with a little birdie who really needed to nap, but didn’t want to nap more than a little bit. Sooooo outside we ventured. We wandered around the neighborhood to see all the pumpkins, goblins, witches, spider webs, acorns and leaves. We found ourselves in front of the pink house, which houses thirteen (13!) children. Just as I was chasing my one (1) child as she was darting into the road, The Mom came out of the house. As usual, she looked fantastic. She’s probably a bit too old to be wearing the trendy little dress and leggings she was confidently sporting, but because she has a great body she seems to be able to pull it off. As we chatted, I thought about what I had thrown on. Oof. The pants were fine, but the rest? Oh my. The comfy (read: too big and dowdy) sweater WITH the pants? Not a good choice. And because I couldn’t find my default black boots, I was wearing a pair of old running shoes. And my Mom Hair — always a pony tail, now about a year overdue for a real haircut–nice. The only thing that looked good? My toes. But only because I had a pedicure about two weeks ago. Of course, The Mom could not see those…

But it gets worse. The Mom asked me what Wren was going to be for Halloween. Side note: although she has 13 children, she always is the first one in the conversation to ask about my child. I didn’t really want to tell her that I was thinking of dressing Wren up as Andy Warhol because I’m not sure she’d quite understand so I told her that I was thinking (which I had been!) about making Wren an apple costume because she’s obsessed with apples (which she very much is), but I wasn’t quite sure “if I could get it together by then.” Then I remembered with whom I was speaking. The Mom. She went on to sweetly tell me about all her (13!) kids and their costumes. Sigh. At about that moment, the only thing that saved me from continuing down this soul-sucking road was that Wren tried to dart into the street again, another one of her recent obsessions. So that was my out.

The little birdie and I kept walking and I decided that a coffee would really perk me up. With some sugar. Yeah, caffeine and sugar, that’s what I needed. I ordered a pumpkin pie latte, which friends had been raving about, but, ahem, gag. Do not put a pumpkin pie into a cup of professionally-steamed espresso. Repeat after me. That’s about when it dawned on me. No amount of caffeine and sugar was really going to make me feel better or more confident as I walked around with a sad excuse for an outfit and a ‘do. And a “woe is me” attitude.

Hair appointment is tomorrow. And I’m getting IT back. Myself, that is. But not like my old pre-baby self. She’s gone, but that’s OK. Because I’m here and I’ve got everything I need. Nothing like a swift kick in the ass.

0 thoughts on “on feeling sorry

  1. Ashlea Jane (Turner) Walter – will you stop putting yourself down? Behind closed doors you know nothing about that other woman’s life, but you DO know what a great life you and Chris and Wren have. So what if you’re not dressed to the nines while strolling the street? Wren couldn’t be more fortunate than to have you for her mama. Stop being hard on yourself – BE yourself and be comfortable with it! And .. I can’t even imagine why anyone would think coffee would be better laced with pumpkin pie gook. uck. xox

  2. That was awesome. I feel like that a lot and my child is 28 now. Sometimes coffee or whatever just doesn’t do it. Sometimes good girlfriends do though!

  3. Hey friend. My days are occasionally bombarded by a nasty case of the “funk” and I agree, a little tweaking in the appearance department typically does the trick. You’re getting a hair cut. Me? In my most recent funk, I decided that I will re-pierce the double piercings in my ears and wear two sets of little hoops like the hipsters, just because it will make me feel like I’m in college again. (I say “re-” pierce because one of my two second piercings is decidedly closed up, despite my attempts to push an earring through it. Now I have what appears to be a second piercing in my left ear with the frustration of not actually being able to use the piercing. To boot, this renders my right second piercing unusable, because I like symmetry. If you ask me, I never should have double-pierced them in the first place, but now I’m stuck. Are you with me sista?) I’ll think of you at the salon if you think of me sitting in that little chair at Claire’s. Look forward to seeing your new “do.”

  4. I hear you. While I know no one with 13 kids, most of the women in my immediate neighborhood are stay-at-home moms with 3-4 kids who look stunning as they saunter out the door with their troop to get to get school. (And I peer out the window, still in my pjs.) But I think Mutti’s spot on ~ listen to that gal! And savor that haircut.

  5. Pingback: yikes « squirrels in wren's nest

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