You know you need to vacuum when you nearly cut your hand on a small piece of dried food embedded in the carpet. Even though the apartment is about 97% carpet, there is no excuse for the overwhelming amount of food particles that can be seen. And, when one of your children starts using said pieces as ammunition against you, you really have a problem.
I spent the day in my pajamas. I had a splitting headache. It was a hum drum day. I thought a lot. I thought about being 25. I wondered how in the world I have 2 children. Yet, I carried them for 9 months, labored, gave birth, and have been paying my dues in getting up at night, cleaning up after their messes etc...This stuff ages you! I mean, I am 25 and I wish I was driving a minivan (really, at this point, any car would do, but you get the idea). I haven't had my hair cut in at least a year, I don't shower every day, and I sometimes don't even brush my teeth. Anybody with me on this? Or am I the only young mom that feels so out of the loop that when asked the question "What is your personal style?" or "What designer do you most follow?" I about pooped my pants. Yes...you read that right. Seriously, I wanted to just start laughing hysterically. And, why, you may ask, was I being asked such questions? I had an interview for a job...at The Limited. And let me tell you, I felt so ridiculously out of place! The interview went well, but I have my doubts still. I mean, all the fashion questions were so uncomfortable for me...cause my "real" answers would be something like, "I wear the same sweats several days in a row," or "Spit-up is the latest trend in my household."
Sometimes I feel like I am the only mother lost in a world of spit-up stained clothes, nursing bras, and highly unfashionable attire. I don't remember the last time I actually bought an entire outfit for myself and it surely was not at The Limited, but probably on some 80% off rack at a department store. I wonder if it will always be this hard to feel "together." But, you know, I came home, to my messy, not vacuumed apartment, and I saw the smiling faces waiting for me, and I realized that even though I often look like a disaster, I am loved by these little ones that call me "Mama." They don't care if I wear the same shirt day after day, or if my hair is standing on end. They just like me to sit on the floor, read books, tickle them, sing, and cuddle them close. That it more valuable to me than shopping at an expensive store and looking like I jumped out of the latest fashion magazine.
