My Secret Subject was given to me by, well what do you know? My sweet friend Karen@ Baking in a Tornado. Woo Hoo! Her topic was : "I'd like the opportunity to explain..." Here goes nothing!
I'd like the opportunity to explain why I wore heels to do the laundry last week.
You see, I'm a stay at home mom now. Actually, I've been one for a few years. Not to seem stereotypical, but SAHMs need to dress comfortably for, um...staying at home. Or going to the grocery, or making that run up to the school for the occasionally forgotten backpack/homework/instrument/lunch. Most of the time though, we're tending to things inside of the house.
I also work from home running my little bag shop. Still. If I'm not lying on the floor drafting patterns, I'm contorting myself like a kid playing Twister to cut fabric. Even sitting up to the old Singer sewing machine does not involve dressing in wool slacks or blazers or ahem, stripper-height shoes.
It was an epiphany (brought on by a much needed swiffer-fest of my closet.) -The "aha" moment when I looked around and realized that I live in holey jeans, tank tops and cardigans. They are the uniform of my life. Usually topped off with a pair of flip flops. The colors of tanks or sweaters may change. I might venture into the occasional yoga outfit or ballet flats, but in reality this is who I had become.
I decided that night (mid-pout) that I didn't have to look "comfortable". There are always the moms with the bejeweled jeans and heels hanging out at the elementary school. (Don't ask.) There are ladies with perfectly coiffed hair buying up the healthy cereal at the market. Why couldn't I try a little harder?
The next morning, I made it happen. I brushed ALL-the-WAY through my hair. I brushed and flossed the BACK teeth. I put on my nice wool pants that had a dust line from where they had laid on the hanger so long. I buttoned up my blouse and slipped on those gorgeous shoes. Stopping at the mirror, I clasped on my metal bracelet and fastened a tiny pair of pearl earrings. I was set.
I carefully walked down the stairs. I was standing a little taller (both figuratively and literally). I walked over to the laundry room clicking on the tile floor as proper ladies do, and opened the laundry chute. Jeans first. Little boy jeans with a pocket full of sand and a package of half-eaten gummy bears. The sand fell and left a trail down my nice pants. I tried to throw the gummies onto the counter. I wasn't even close. They scattered across the floor. Breathing harder, I pulled a fully soaked towel out that was connected to 37 other towels and assorted socks. The socks were sandy too. As I reached over the side of the dryer for the "sock that got away", my rock-star shoes slipped on the sandy tile and I landed on my fancy-looking butt atop the soaking wet pile of towels.
A few words not worth repeating. A deep breath realizing how ridiculous I looked. A weak moment when I dusted off one of those gummies and ate it. Who was I kidding?
I undressed right there, down to my skivvies. I pulled open a drawer and grabbed a rubber band. The jewelry went in the drawer and my hair went in a bun. I finished the laundry that day. Looking just like that. The heels sat there in the laundry room for a few days to remind me how foolish I had been.
There may have been tears. There may have been shocked neighbors watching a 42 year old women folding towels in her underwear. There may have even been a few less gummy bears. Who can tell?
I've learned my lessons.
1. No more playing dress up.
2. Kids MUST empty their pockets before throwing their clothes down the chute.
3. Kids must notify mom before throwing down soaking wet towels.
4. Gummy bears, in a crisis, can surpass the five second rule.
Happy "Be-yourself-all-of-the-time" day, friends!