Most days you can find me sporting sweatpants and a maternity tank. My hair? Unceremoniously thrown up in a messy bun. Is that egg in my hair from breakfast you ask? No way… well, probably: I have a toddler. Let me rephrase that – I have a ferret on speed that LOOKS like a toddler. Catch me chasing him around at lunch time with a sandwich he doesn’t want to eat and a cheese stick that I most certainly do.
I am 33 weeks pregnant with our second little boy. Some parents are terrified of the newborn stage. Us? We can’t wait because we know what a peaceful time those first few months are… you know, before your adorable spawn is mobile.
With our first child I completely took for granted those blissful few months before he learned to crawl – the days when I could put him down on a blanket, go pee (by myself I might add) and know without a doubt that when I came back, he would still be there in the same spot.
Today? I peed with an audience. My two year old flung open the bathroom door, growled at me like a dinosaur then immediately ran head first into said door and burst into tears. I of course, (mid-pee) scooped him onto my lap and kissed the red spot on his head as I rocked him back and forth (again, still peeing.) Ever the opportunist, my tiny tyrant stood up quickly on my legs and informed me “I say hi to doggies!” before he yanked on the window covering so hard it fell to the ground with a loud bang – allowing him to actually SEE the “doggies” he was saying hi to and exposing me to the neighbors. (hi Stan and Julie!) Satisfied, my toddler quickly wriggled off my lap, went to the bathroom door and yelled “bye bye” before shutting it quickly, presumably, to go cause chaos in some other room of the house.
Life with a little boy is crazy; with two, it will be even crazier. But what will keep my wonderful husband and I going? knowing it will be filled with two times the love. My boys will most likely grow up remembering me, their mommy, as wearing yoga pants so much that when I wear actual jeans they will say “why are you so dressed up!?”
Most days I don’t get a chance to put on mascara – and you know what? Thats ok. Because I have the two greatest reasons in the world to rock the sporty look. But I want to have maternity pictures done for myself. I spend so much time making my child’s life beautiful that I forget that I too, am worthy of that kind of beauty. I want my boys to see what they probably won’t most days – that their mother was more than “just a mom.”
If I can give myself and my boys anything – its this: I want them to know that I opted for the yoga pants over the lipstick out of love – not because I couldn’t look beautiful. I want my boys to be able to see me, if even for a moment (or one frame) as not just the woman with egg in her hair or the person who comforts them no matter the time or the place – but as an actual woman – the one their father couldn’t take his eyes off of when he fell in love with her.