Bringing Sexy Back

I got dressed up today – well, more so than usual. It’s my birthday.

I always believed that birthdays should be one’s personal national holiday. It’s only been in recent years that I’ve stopped highlighting the calendar (now I just draw balloons.)

I’m 31. I’m a mother – my birthdays aren’t the ones that matter any more. Two years ago it was a desperate attempt to stave off the muppets birthday. These days it’s a constant celebration that I have my million dollar miracle muppets home and healthy.

Last night I snuck into the nursery to turn off their music and cover my sleeping babes with a blanket on a cool autumn evening. I was almost brought to tears by the sight of them – chunky growing toddlers, simply sleeping.

Happy birthday to me.

I share my birthday month with Prematurity Awareness Month. For two years now, my sole purpose has been Mother, Mama Bear. Fighter, advocate, diaper changer. Watching my child sleep soundly with his knees tucked under him and his bottom airborne, I was at peace. And I was reminded that I am also a wife and a me.

So this morning I got up and got dressed. I took the time to straighten my hair – a sharp contrast to the typical ponytail I usually throw my hair back into. I put on makeup – my mom always told me eyeshadow made my eyes stand out. Why not stand out today?

It’s time to take the time. I’m bringing sexy back!

I wore matching underwear: black. (That’s supposed to be sexy right?) This is a far cry from the blue polka dot panties, or other such cotton pattern, that usually get chosen by virtue of being clean and at the top of the drawer.

I pulled on a slate grey pencil skirt and purple silk blouse. Lookitme! All grown up! Black heels completed the look. It was a far cry from the sports bra, sweatpants and mismatched ratty t-shirt that uniforms my evenings and weekends.

If I’m going to sacrifice any portion of my evenings to the taunting treadmill, damnit, I’m going to wear a pencil skirt when given the opportunity.

I felt put together. I felt like, not really me. I felt grown up. Is this what adulthood feels like? One of these days I just may have to take stock of my life and realize – home, husband, career, mother – maybe I am grownup after all. (Especially all professionally dressed.)

I scooped up the muppets and attempted to coerce them to walk with me toward their daycare classroom. Search collapsed into a heap on the parking lot; Destroy turned and ran in the opposite direction as I chased after him dragging lunch boxes and trying to keep an eye on the muppet melting down to my left.

Finally I picked them both up and headed toward the classroom. Destroy smirked and pulled at my top, pointing to the ground and demanding “DOWN.”

Hello fellow preschool parents. Why yes. Yes, I did just flash all of you in the parking lot. I hope you appreciate the lacy black bra I took the effort to wear today.

So…maybe I’m not bringing sexy back. Let’s keep this between us, shall we? I’ll just keep playing dress up and pretending I’m a grown up…