I Never Wear High Heels - and my other failings as the mother of a girl

If you know me, you read that title with the sarcastic lilt that you know you would hear in my voice.  I don't think it is a failing as a mother to not wear high heels.  IN FACT, I think I personally am a better mother because my attention isn't on what my feet look like.  Or my outfit.  Or my nonexistent makeup.  However, I do have awesome hair.  When I wash it.  Ha!

But I didn't always feel that way.  My mother didn't wear shoes often at home and if she did, it was wooden bottomed clogs, or boots.  It was the 70's.  It was Texas.  (now she wears sliver and pink sneakers...go figure)  And there was a time I was sort of ashamed that she wasn't more cool.  Or more dressed up.  Or teaching me how to wear makeup.  I learned haphazardly from friends and from watching my older sister.  It was a rough route at times, but I settled into a style that, when I am not between pregnancy fluctuations, is a comfy jeans a t-shirt kind of style.  With sneakers.  Or flip flops.  And a ponytail.  Not that fancy isn't fun, but it's just not for me on a daily basis.

I see women who pull off the coolest outfits and walk flawlessly through this journey called motherhood and I am in awe, because when I put on fancy clothes, I feel strangled.  And unnatural.  And I sure can't ride bikes, or go on hikes, or scrub toilets, and sweep floors, sort laundry, clean up poo and pee accidents, or get puked on every feeding by my babies, (3 for 3 in the reflux department...awesome) or read books on the floor, or play chase like a bear, or wrestle my children without worrying about those clothes. *For those of you who do it, more power to you.  Your fashion rocks my face off. 

When I do take the time to dress up, the appreciation on the part of everyone here is great!  All the kids who can talk and my hubs take the time to tell me how lovely I look and in the mirror, I know it's true.  But I also know I am lovely like I was today.  Slightly grubby.  Wearing yesterday's jeans, a t-shirt with a spit up stain on the shoulder and having an indoor reading fest of new library books, spread out on the floor around us like a feast of words.  I will teach my girl all the fun of being fancy in years to come (as if she isn't already schooling herself), but I will also enjoy days that end in mud and dirt and a different kind of fun.  And I will LOVE not having crumpled up feet when I am on old lady from wearing heels.  Just my thoughts for today.