Schlumpy Mom

I am schlumpy.  Somehow I’ve lost my way with my stay-at-home-mom-uniform.  (You know it.  Black yoga pants and various crinkled clearance-bin T-shirts.) 

Maybe I shouldn’t be sitting here in my stay-at-home-mom uniform with mysterious stains eating ice-cream and watching ‘The Devil Wears Prada.’  I’m the before Anne Hatheway, the one with the long skirt she got at a thrift sale and the blue sweater she got on clearance at a Club Monaco.
Ah, but I’m beyond such things as fashion.  And clean, wrinkle-free clothes.  And make-up…right?  I’m too smart to worry about what I put on my back.  And yet, and yet…sometimes I wish I had a closet full of clothes I don’t need.  Two for every occasion.  And instantly I feel guilty.  Images of hungry children starving in Africa flash into my head.  So many better ways to use any extra money I have. 
And yet…as I sit here in my rumpled uniform and ponder the vastness of space and the fleeting nature of our lives I have to wonder…would it kill me to vary my uniform every now and again?  Wear a dress shirt?  Iron…something?  
I think I’m just missing a little adult-time in my life.  A chance to get dressed up and feel pretty instead of just grabbing what I can find that doesn’t smell on my way out the door.  Sometimes it’s fun to be a girl.  Put pretty nail polish on, wear a dress, try a new kind of mascara even if you don’t need it.
As I put on my gardening clothes and look for my trowel I think…this is good too.  My head is full of landscaping plans for our new backyard, on where the light hits the ground.  Where would be a good place to plant my lavender and sage?  On how to keep the deer from eating my roses.  I think I came to a choice a long time ago about what I wanted to focus on, on what I wanted to be.  And it wasn’t on how to dress.  I don’t know designers or frankly, how to put an outfit together.  (I have two colors in my closet – brown and black.  Anything other than that, mom bought it for me….)  And for the most part I’m ok with that.  
But.  I’ve REALLLY gotten bad lately.  Since I’ve become a mom I’ve sort of become third priority to myself…Ellie, Bill, me.  And that’s not right either.  I mean, really, I’m not a hundred yet I’ve still got one or two good years left where if I try really hard, I could still turn a head or two.
So, my vow for the next couple months is to get myself one new outfit and to wear make-up at least two of the seven days of the week.  Just for me.  Just so I can look in the mirror and instead of seeing a tired, pale face gaze back at me wearily, I see the vibrant youngish woman I feel like on the INSIDE.  Because that’s what matters.  Because being a good mom is about doing what’s best for you, too, every now and again.  A happy mom is a good mom.

Published by @abyeh2013

East coast Canadian native A.D Yeh received her bachelor degree in psychology and literature from Mount Allison University in Sackville, NB, Canada. She helps the online writing community at DIY MFA ( by day and spends her nights writing fantasy novels and poetry she would like to read. She also teaches a love of gardening to pre-k kids in her physical community. She lives with her husband, two human children and two fur babies in a quiet corner of Texas.

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