Why does the life of wife and mother have to mean that my stuff is in worse condition, my clothes have stains, and my car is dirty inside and out and I have to be willing to share EVERYTHING that I have. And of course nothing looks as fun, intresting, or as yummy as it does when Momma has it.
Everything that belongs to me is sticky, if it’s not sticky it’s covered in some sort of ‘fuzz’ because at one point it WAS sticky. I go to get Cheetah out of the car seat and the seatbelt is sticky, the carseat is sticky, Cheetah is sticky! My hands are now sticky, oh crap gotta grab my purse…now the purse is sticky! (Repeating to myself, “Do NOT run your fingers through your hair until you wash them!”) I am pretty sure when I signed up for this whole ‘motherhood thing’ there was no clause or fine print that mentioned anything about my new found candy covered paradise. I see other mother's walking around and they aren't breaking a sweat, don't have crazy eyes, or stringy hair; they actually look pretty cute in their capris with matching tops, perfectly pedicured toes, and 'just so' hair do's.
As I walked dowtown feeling a little worse for wear and out of breath I wondered, did I miss the training? Was their some sort of 'super mom 101' at the hospital and I missed the announcement? Most days I feel accomplished when I make it to work on time, dropped Cheetah off (with all his belongings) and I remembered to pick up my lunch from the kitchen counter. I need better goals!
I really kinda feel sorry for all those celebrities that have to deal with the sticky hands, belongings, and purses...they have to be beautiful, AND smile for the cameras.