So, You Come Here Often?

This morning I took Firstborn to the local playground. You know the kind. The community builds them and they resemble castles and forts. He was having much more fun playing in the mulch than with any actual equipment, but that's the way it goes. After we'd been there 20 minutes or so we ran into another little boy and his mommy. Turns out both boys were 18 months old.
Immediately the mommy and I began chatting. We had so much in common. We went through all the usual warm up topics: clothing, potty training, likes, dislikes. So far, so good. My mind was racing ahead with all kinds of questions and antidotes.
This was too good to be true. This was not just another seesaw set up. This felt real. I was certain I was getting a good vibe. I hadn't had such good luck in the past. If the kids clicked, then mommy and I wouldn't or vice versa. Totally not the case here. All four of us were having a great time.
I began to turn my thoughts to future trysts. Trips to the children's museum, craft time at the art store, and best of all - visiting the inflatable gyms. This relationship could work. I just knew it.
I took a deep breath and dared to ask the big question. Were they seeing anybody else? They were. A little girl on Tuesdays followed by dinner. And while she never said if it was exclusive or not I just didn't have the heart to go any further. Once again I'd let my enthusiasm get the best of me.
How long was it going to take to find the right fit? How did other mommies do it? Do I need to place an ad? "Mommy and tot son looking for a good time. Likes it dirty. Open to group dates."
I didn't want to end up one of those playground groupies. I didn't want to be the mommy always giving out her digits to any and everyone. I had standards, by golly.
As is often the case it got a little crowded when another mom and her three daughters joined us. Though they were nice and played well, it just seemed as if a damper had been put on the mood. Lucky for us it was closing in on nap time giving us a solid exit line. "It's not you. It's us. It's nap time."

Mayor Of Sloppy Town

Lately I've been feeling under dressed and out of touch. The only things I've added to my wardrobe over the past three years have been maternity clothing, tee-shirts of the long and short sleeve variety, a couple of pairs of ill fitting blue jeans, and a wedding dress. Before I became pregnant my wardrobe was still somewhat stylish. Many of the pieces were several years old but still stylish. I've always taken good care of my clothing by use of Woolite and minimal use of the dryer. My past purchases have been of classic cuts and good quality. Sure, I would snag some trendy stuff here and there but only at discount prices which usually meant poorer quality.
My maternity clothing was mostly purchased from Target or J.C. Pennies. I had some really cute pieces, but let's face it, by the time the eighth month rolled around I felt like everything I put on looked like dirt. The last month of the pregnancy i retained so much water I may as well have just invested in a couple of tents at the local camping store. However, I resisted as my condition was after all, temporary. But finally the blessed occasion arrived and I excitedly awaited to return to my former petite self.
After 16 months I was able to fit back into my old jeans, even the super skinny ones. At last most of my wardrobe was once again accessible. The more outfits I tried on the more it became apparent, however that I had been a hoochie in my former life. Maybe not a full time hoochie, but a hoochie all the same.
This was not good. I was a mommy and proud to be one. A mommy did not push a stroller wearing a sheer Bebe blouse while wearing a skirt that wasn't much longer. Besides, pushing that stroller was going to be much harder while wearing those stacked stilettos that I had once been so fond of.
I begrudgingly began packing several garbage bags with the clothing I had once loved wearing out to late, late dinners and cocktail parties. I surveyed what was left on the hangers in my closet and realized that I had officially become mayor of sloppy town. My love for lounge wear had left me with years of Tee-shirts that were super soft and faded to seven times past that of original purchase. My beloved yoga pants and gym clothing were still there to comfort me, no matter that they, nor I had seen the inside of a gym since my first trimester. Where had my style gone? Was it off somewhere hanging out with my boobs? 'Cause I hadn't seen them in a while either. At least not since I weened Firstborn.
I felt completely intimidated at the thought of rebuilding an entire wardrobe. I hadn't properly maintained the one I had and now I was starting from square one. Not only would this be costly but time consuming. I once enjoyed shopping but it now seemed that i had lost that spark.
I wish I had my sister's enthusiasm for the great retail hunt. She is a trained and avid hunter and darned good at it. Never have I ever seen her wear anything that wouldn't be spread across the pages of a magazine. Her hair and makeup always looking fresh and "just right". Me, I do good to get my face washed and moisturized. I even remember days when Firstborn still had that new car smell, that washing my face merely consisted of dragging a baby wipe across cheek to cheek.
Fortunately, my sis has made the offer of taking me shopping once I have a little cash tucked away. Until then I'll be rocking out in one of my high school cross country Tee-shirts from 1993 and an ever popular pair of black yoga pants watching "What Not To Wear". Feel free to nominate me for the show.