The Decline

“The Decline” is my hubby’s worst fear. It was our running joke for awhile, but it’s kind of died off now. Uh-oh, does that mean it’s happening? I still shower everyday, put on new chonies, and a little makeup…so, no Decline yet!

His worry is that I’ll totally let myself go, not bothering to shower or even brush my teeth on a daily basis. I don’t know why he’s so concerned though. There’s only been a couple of days since I had the baby that I skipped a shower. I should be the one who’s worried. Some weekends he’s the poster child for The Decline: stinky and unkempt, lounging around in his favorite ratty T-shirt and shorts.

I understand where he’s coming from though. I don’t want to end up like one of those moms who wears crusty sweats all day and doesn’t even bother to brush her hair. The poor souls who end up on makeover shows, forced to watch secret video footage of themselves wearing ill-fitting bras and jeans that give them muffin tops.

My girlfriend said she had a reality check the other day when she realized it had been months since she’d gotten her hair done, her roots a little longer than normal. (She said she looked disgusting, but that’s impossible! She’s the most beautiful Mummy ever!) But she asked me to never let her become one of those women who end up on “What Not to Wear”. Of course she never will, but I understand her anxiety and will tell her if she ever starts to slide into The Decline. I know she’ll do the same for me.

I panic about the days ahead, the days where my daughter will drop her morning nap and I’ll have to get ready while she’s–godforbid–awake! Awake and trying to get into everything she shouldn’t be getting into. It will take me 3 hours just to get ready for the day in between chasing her around. Or I could succumb to the dreaded TV as a babysitter so Mummy can have those precious uninterrupted 15 minutes…

When these days come (as I’m sure they will) and I haven’t showered or even changed into a brand new pair of underwear, if the hubby so much as raises an eyebrow, there will be a whole lot more Declining coming his way!

Apples or Oranges

Being a mom is all about trade-offs and sacrifices. You really can’t have it all…at least at the same time. Your head would surely explode. So they should stop making such a big deal out of it.

On a daily basis I find myself making choices between this or that. Do I take a shower while she’s napping or read my book nestled in the corner of the couch? Because if I choose reading then I’ll have to take her in the bathroom with me while I shower and who knows what kind of mood she’ll be in. She might scream at me the entire time because she can’t see my face, even though I continue to talk and sing her name, assuring her that I’m just behind the curtain.

But if I choose to shower while she’s peacefully slumbering, there are even more choices to make. To shave the legs, or not to shave the legs. And I mean the whole leg–both of them–above the knees. To condition the hair, or not to condition the hair. You can’t do both. There’s just not enough time to be showered and ready before she wakes up if you shave both legs! So I usually sacrifice smooth legs for manageable hair, it’s not like these pasty white stumps see the light of day anyway.

Each decision is a trade-off in itself. Sometimes it works out well and the whole day goes smoothly. Other times I want to pull my hair out…my soft, manageable hair.

I realize the choices I have to make are really easy ones for the time being. I know it will only get more complicated as the baby gets older. And here I always thought that things would get easier! Joke’s on me!