Mirror Mirror......Who's that?

One of my hardest transitions into motherhood was no longer seeing myself as this hip (or so I thought) well kept trend seeker. Maybe it was because I spent all of our money on things that rattle, things that stroll,or things that are ''Garunteed!" to make our parental experience a walk in the park. *And, BOY will I get into that at a later time.*

In a society where "the mom jean" has become a fashion staple and the "scrunchie" a go to accessory it almost seems like that's what we are bound to,as if the mere wearing of such items automatically say"I'm a mom and this is my uniform". You trade in your sports coupe for a mini-van and your luckys for lees--a natural progression--no?

No!

I remember vividly this strange (and incredibly uncomfortable) moment I had in front of my husband's ENTIRE family--Christmas--Six Months Post Partum. After seeing myself on a camera screen for the FIRST time since the birth of my dear sweet baby, I ran out of the living room *sobbing*.

After about an hour of people attempting to console with "It took you nine months to gain it....." I went to another place. A place that I am quite sure we as mothers all go to at one point or another. I jumped into a sweatsuit, wrapped a scarf around my neck, pulled back my hair--and didn't think about looking in a mirror--for weeks.

Prior to getting pregnant I had lost about 60 pounds. I spent two to three hours in the gym each day. I had upstanding hair and nail appointments and I shopped--avidly. I ate raw, I lived green, I lived--for me. I can remember the exact moment of sitting down on the couch, holding that plastic stick--staring--blankly and for  a split second thinking.."Oh whoa what did I do?" The realization that something at that very second was living inside of me--and that I was no longer living for me--was life changing. INSTANTLY.

Before I knew it I was staring down at this little creature who looked a little like me, a little like him... sitting in bed with my boobs out, my hair undone, legs unshaven and chipped fingernail polish. (Chipped 9 month old fingernail polish as I refused to put a SINGLE chemical on my body while pregnant so the stuff just--stayed.) suddenly choosing outfits became "what can I pull a boob out of the easiest?" instead of  "how do my boobs look in this?".

I'd like to say that it was a slow progression to that six month diva meltdown at my in laws. But it wasn't. I was sleepless and figure less and that was the first time in months I had actually used buttons on ANYTHING. Seeing myself not being kept in by these buttons and my failed attempts at hair and make-up really just tossed around my insides. So much so that for the next five months I lived in stretchy pants and t-shirts.

One fated day a trip to the grocery store and an extended in car phone conversation led me to lay my eyes upon--my awakening. There in the parking lot a mother who had found it in her to come to the grocery store in her torn pajamas--white shirt--no bra--and bedazzled flip-flops. I wanted to hug her and hand her a mirror. I hung up the phone, reached for my tinted chapstick, opened the visor mirror and began my journey--back to civilization.

The glorious thing about children is that they love you no matter what you look (or smell) like. They don't care about your nails,  or your legs, or your shoes they just want you to love them--kiss them. They're happier if we haven't taken a shower in a few days because it means we've been with them every second. We spend our time spinning a world for them, keeping them safe, nourished, and comfy....somewhere along the way we entered the world of selflessness and found true contentment.

I can't help but think that when we do finally wake up and look in the mirror and realize that we can, we should, we NEED to nourish ourselves as well that within that very instant shame and guilt set in. I am starting to realize that these aren't bad things--they're symptoms of being a good mother.

I am sure the paradigm shift is different for each mother. They each have their moment of standing in front of the mirror asking themselves "WHAT happened?". For some feeling lovely may lie in a haircut,  for others a simple shower, and some may actually look at themselves and embrace who they see and learn to love that new person staring back at them.  Our journeys are all different, our ideas of beauty, or what a mother looks like vary greatly. That's the beauty of our world!

We are gorgeous creatures each and every one of us. We have created life, a home, an existence for LIVING little beings, and sometimes it's OK to bust out the lip gloss and flat iron! We can take an hour schedule a massage, a pedicure, or a haircut and fly back home evolved and zen. We are women, we love to feel pretty whatever our definition of pretty is. Define your pretty in motherhood! The lovely thing about pretty in motherhood is that there are now tons of earth friendly, non-baby harming, BRILLIANT products on the market to green you glam!