Happy Belated New Year everyone, I hope last year was as productive and enjoyable as you hoped it would be and that next year will be even better. At New Year’s dinner this year when everyone was declaring their resolutions for 2011 I found myself at a complete loss. Be a good mother? Exercise more? Eat better? No, those all rang cliché to me and not a “new” goal. I know that this year is going to be a tumultuous one, having just given birth the week before to a beautiful baby girl, E, and with the prospect of an international move on the horizon and everything that goes along with that. It seemed unrealistic to expect to achieve anything more ambitious than survival.
That being said, after a couple of days of contemplation I decided that my resolution this year would be to keep up appearances. It may seem vain and superficial but looking good makes me feel more confident and I know that even though they shouldn’t the world judges people based on looks. I don’t want to be one of those women people feel sorry for because they’re always wearing pajamas. I don’t want to be martyr mom who takes care of everyone but themself. That’s okay, I don’t need that cross to bare.
I recently had a fashionista friend help me audit my wardrobe and while she decided that I should keep my collection of T-shirts, they were relegated to the category of workout clothes. Ha! They were the lynchpins of my daily mom uniform.
That being said, after a couple of days of contemplation I decided that my resolution this year would be to keep up appearances. It may seem vain and superficial but looking good makes me feel more confident and I know that even though they shouldn’t the world judges people based on looks. I don’t want to be one of those women people feel sorry for because they’re always wearing pajamas. I don’t want to be martyr mom who takes care of everyone but themself. That’s okay, I don’t need that cross to bare.
I recently had a fashionista friend help me audit my wardrobe and while she decided that I should keep my collection of T-shirts, they were relegated to the category of workout clothes. Ha! They were the lynchpins of my daily mom uniform.
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