Apparel for Motherhood
I remember back in the day, before I had kids... Things were so different. I could spend all day running errands, and get twenty things done in a day instead of two. I could leave my nail polish out on the counter without returning five minutes later to find my counter painted red. I could choose my clothes based how they looked, without trying to figure out how badly they would be stained by chocolate smeared spit. My wardrobe is quite a bit less glamorous than it used to be. No more silk, cashmere, or hand-wash-only. My clothes these days fall into one of two categories:
1) Light Colors, or in other words Clothes That Show Food and Dirt; or
2) Dark Colors, or in other words Clothes That Show Snot and Mucous.
I wake up in the morning and assess the situation. Are we going to the park? Out to lunch? If the answer to either of these questions is yes, I choose a dark shirt. Does someone have a runny nose? Is anyone teething? If so, I choose a light shirt.
Now this system works fine until you have a conflict. Often, I'll have a leaky drooling teether going on a lunch play date. This causes much stress and confusion during the shirt selection process since I am then forced to weigh the odds. I could go with a light color and risk being slathered in peanut butter mouth prints, but I would then be free from any obvious teething salivations. Or, I could try going dark and not have to worry about the peanut butter, but I would then surely end up covered front to back in dozens of slug-like trails of spit. Oh, what to do? What if one of them has a runny nose but the other one has to go to a birthday party at the zoo? What if we're not going anywhere because one of them is sick, and I want to be prepared to be puked on? Does vomit go in the food or mucous category?
Pants are usually easy since jeans can take a beating without breaking a sweat, but there are some situations that can even push denim to it's very limit. Such as helping out in a classroom filled with seventeen waist-high preschoolers. They swing around your legs like a jungle gym with their paint smeared palms and Play-Doh encrusted fingernails. They play hide-and-seek behind you, pressing their Kool-Aid mustaches into your thigh to try and stifle their giggles, lest they be discovered.
At the end of the day, I think the only answer is investing in a durable raincoat and some chest waders. At least then I can go catch a fish or two in between poopy diapers.
1) Light Colors, or in other words Clothes That Show Food and Dirt; or
2) Dark Colors, or in other words Clothes That Show Snot and Mucous.
I wake up in the morning and assess the situation. Are we going to the park? Out to lunch? If the answer to either of these questions is yes, I choose a dark shirt. Does someone have a runny nose? Is anyone teething? If so, I choose a light shirt.
Now this system works fine until you have a conflict. Often, I'll have a leaky drooling teether going on a lunch play date. This causes much stress and confusion during the shirt selection process since I am then forced to weigh the odds. I could go with a light color and risk being slathered in peanut butter mouth prints, but I would then be free from any obvious teething salivations. Or, I could try going dark and not have to worry about the peanut butter, but I would then surely end up covered front to back in dozens of slug-like trails of spit. Oh, what to do? What if one of them has a runny nose but the other one has to go to a birthday party at the zoo? What if we're not going anywhere because one of them is sick, and I want to be prepared to be puked on? Does vomit go in the food or mucous category?
Pants are usually easy since jeans can take a beating without breaking a sweat, but there are some situations that can even push denim to it's very limit. Such as helping out in a classroom filled with seventeen waist-high preschoolers. They swing around your legs like a jungle gym with their paint smeared palms and Play-Doh encrusted fingernails. They play hide-and-seek behind you, pressing their Kool-Aid mustaches into your thigh to try and stifle their giggles, lest they be discovered.
At the end of the day, I think the only answer is investing in a durable raincoat and some chest waders. At least then I can go catch a fish or two in between poopy diapers.
November 18, 2005