Sunday, March 28, 2010

Why Glam-O-Mommy?

If you're reading this, you're probably wondering, why Glam-O-Mommy? Conceited much?

Well, I essentially gave myself this nickname when I was pregnant with my daughter, during a conversation I was having with my husband after an OB/GYN visit. On these visits, the waiting room was usually filled with lots of moms and little ones. Some of these moms were of the sweatpants-no-makeup-hair-in-a-scrunchie variety. And I'm not knocking them...OK, I guess I am, maybe a little. And I'm sorry about that, because I'm sure they are doing the best they can. But this isn't really a knock on them so much as it's about me and who I am.

As you might expect, I'm a high maintenance gal. I'm not like Sally from When Harry Met Sally (my favorite movie of all time), who is high maintenance, but thinks she's low maintenance (the worst kind of girl in Harry's opinion). I'm high maintenance and I know it. I own it. I special-order my food in restaurants just like Sally in fact LOL. I'm a very picky eater. And my high-maintenance-ness drives my husband a little crazy sometimes.

He would love nothing better than to roll out of bed on a Saturday morning, throw on clothes, go hiking, then eat lunch in a restaurant and hit the grocery store afterwards. All without showering. Sometimes after a night where he played hockey and came home sweaty. And he does this. Me? Not so much. I need at least an hour to shower, put on makeup, and do my hair before I would ever leave the house. To do anything. Even hike. In the woods. Where no one I know would see me.

So when confronted with these sweatpants-no-makeup-hair-in-a-scrunchie moms visit after visit, my husband started teasing me that I was going to turn into one of these moms as soon as the baby came, because there was no way I would have time to do my normal, high-maintenance-ness prep before I left the house every time with the baby, right? Wishful thinking on his part. I assured him that I had no intention of changing my high-maintenance-ness when our daughter arrived on the scene, because I was going to be Glam-O-Mommy!

The title came out of nowhere and kind of cracked me up, but also in a nutshell described what I aspired to be. I wanted to be the same person I always was, just with a totally adorable kid in tow. I wanted my daughter to become part of the life I had, not overhaul my life or give it a makeunder (in the beauty sense LOL).

And lest you think I am a totally vain, spoiled person who just wanted a doll to dress in pretty clothes, that's not what I mean. Well, I do like to dress her in pretty clothes, but I wanted to have a baby that would enrich and be part of the life I had...going out to eat, traveling, being part of my activities as well as her own. I didn't want my life to go away and for me to become someone different, who didn't care about how I looked, who didn't ever go out to eat or travel places, and who dropped all of my activities.

Obviously, my life has changed somewhat since I had my daughter, I'm rarely out past 8:30, for example. I can sing the theme songs for the Wonder Pets and the Backyardigans. I know all the new Sesame Street characters (Zoe, Abby, Elmo, Rosita, Murray and his little lamb Ovelita). Girls' night out now consists of me, my daughter, and two of my girlfriends and their children ordering food in at someone's house and chatting and eating while the kids play. On the other hand, my daughter has already traveled by plane to four states and another country in her 18 months on earth, has eaten in all kinds of restaurants starting at five days old (and a dinner cruise on one vacation), and generally goes where I go. I love her so, so much! My life is so much better with her in it. (I went through an almost two-year infertility battle complete with hellish drugs, expensive tests and procedures, and rollercoaster emotions to have her, so she is extra precious to me, but that's another post.)

Anyhoo, back to Glam-O-Mommy. Just how much of a Glam-O-Mommy am I? After what I thought was my water broke (turned out to be the plug, sorry for the TMI), I called the doctor on call because it was about 12:30 a.m. She told me to come on in to the hospital and get checked out just in case (I was 10 days out from my due date). I asked her if I had to come right away or if I had a little time to take a shower (I had been on my way to bed when this happened after a long hot August day in Texas and felt grungy). She said that was fine, so I took a shower, APPLIED FRESH MAKEUP, and STYLED MY HAIR WHILE IN LABOR before going to the hospital LOL. My daughter was born eight short hours later and I looked pretty good in our first pictures together!

Have I given in and grabbed my scrunchie since giving birth? No. Much to my husband's chagrin, I still shower, put on makeup, and do my hair before I ever leave the house. Sometimes I might be blow drying my hair while sitting on the floor looking at books with my daughter or applying makeup with one hand while I hold her Minnie Mouse for her with the other, but I still get it all done. I have not gotten a shorter do since giving birth either. My hair remains long and highlighted blonde. The one concession I have made in my beauty routine is my nails. A former nail biter, I've been sporting acrylic nails for about 12 years, which got rid of the biting habit and made my hands look much nicer. Pre-baby, I got them filled every two weeks like clockwork. Now, I struggle to find time to do them that regularly, so usually they come off completely by the third week and I am nail-less for a week or so until I can get my husband to watch our daughter so I can run get them done. Not very glamorous, so I just do what I did before I got acrylics. Keep. Hands. Hidden. LOL.

I do tend to put more emphasis on what my daughter is wearing these days than what I am wearing. I feel exhausted most of the time, which isn't very glamorous, even though I am lucky to work only four days a week. I would die for a full-body massage, which I haven't had in over a year. I haven't seen a movie in a theater in two years and haven't been to a play or musical in the same amount of time. So, Glam-O-Mommy? Kind of an oxymoron.

For me though, these days nothing feels more glamorous than when I arrive at my daughter's school after working a full day, and she runs into my arms saying, "Hi Mama, hi Mama!" That makes me feel like a star.

Friday, March 26, 2010

I am Glam-O-Mommy (at least in my own mind)

My life is not particularly glamorous. OK, not remotely glamorous. I am a married mother of one child under the age of two. I work four days a week in an office, while my daughter is in day school three blocks away. I used to have a flat stomach and small, but perky boobs. Now I have a poochy stomach and small, but droopy boobs. I carry Pampers Wipes with me at all times. I spent the night of the Oscars watching alone, in my flannel pajama pants, folding loads and loads of tiny laundry as my husband and daughter slept.

I'll never walk a red carpet in my life, and I don't have the money to buy super expensive things, but that doesn't mean I have to put on mom jeans and pull my hair into a scrunchie and give up. I am Glam-O-Mommy!

You'll rarely catch me outside my house without a full face of makeup. I wear jeans and heels to the playground. I revel in mani/pedis. My husband and I take our daughter everywhere with us, to restaurants, on vacations, to the mall. Yes, I'm that mom, clattering through the airport in a cute outfit, matching jewelry, and heels, pushing a cutely coordinated toddler in a stroller while carrying a shiny red Dooney and Burke purse, a non-matching Graco diaper bag, and a pink stuffed pig. Look closely and you'll note I am glistening ever so slightly as I pass, because I am a hot mama, literally. But I'm trying! I aspire to glamour.

I find glamour in small things, like indulging in a Grande Peppermint Hot Chocolate from Starbucks, occasionally buying overpriced makeup from Sephora, having three signature perfumes I like to wear (not all at once), picking my daughter up from school every day and getting covered in her drooly kisses, and hanging out with her in a fairy princess tent in our living room.

I want more than I have, but have more than I ever dreamed of growing up. I'm grateful for my family, which in addition to my hockey-playing, IT guy husband and adorable genius toddler daughter, includes my loving, kooky parents, the grandparentals, who live across town and are happy to provide free babysitting any time.

This blog is intended to be a place where I can write freely. If you don't like what I have to say, no worries. Kindly move on to another blog. I'm simply expressing my personal opinions in a creative outlet. If you do like what I have to say, wonderful. Grab a Starbucks, pull up a chair, and let's chat, shall we?