I had an important baby shower coming up. The first time the girls were going to see me – out, in public, since having my 2nd child. I wanted to put my best foot forward, and I wanted to have said foot be freshly polished. HOWEVER, I hadn’t found an opportunity to get my nails done, (you know the drill – 2 kids, married to a fireman, work part-time, dishes, laundry, cooking, more laundry, more cooking, laundry again, how are they STILL hungry??). Well, my nails are pretty decent so I thought I’d treat myself to some pampering time after I put the kids to bed. The truth is I wanted to look my best to show everyone, and maybe even prove to myself, that even though I have TWO kids now, I can still pull it together. Cue the snickering.
Well after nursing and teeth brushing, diaper changes and showers, prayers (for them, but mostly for me), followed by reading 80652457 stories; It. Was. TIME. Time for MY pampering moment, my at home spa treatment, my me time. I made some spa-licous fruit water (OK, it was frozen berries dumped into la croix) and turned on some ravishing reality TV . I had my whole set up ready, it was GLORIOUS. I actually thought to myself, Melissa, you totally have this two kid thing down, good for YOU! Cue the gut wrenching laughter.
Fast forward approximately 1.5 hours to me waking up in my recliner to an OVERLY poignant smell of nail polish, and stickiness – LOTS of stickiness. Somehow in my overzealous moment of wanting to look “the part” – the part of the celebrity mama who looks like she sleeps 13 hours a night and is ALWAYS properly primped, I forgot that I’m a normal mom. Better yet, I’m a tired mom. So tired apparently that after painting one hand I fell asleep (forget the feet!). And after I was in my deep, much needed, slumber I poured the other half of polish down my leggings. In a daze I took a quick midnight shower complete with ferocious scrubbing. After a few more hours of sleep, I hear my son shouting to me from his room. I stumble across the house to his room, hair still wet and matted, and truthfully, I probably didn’t even have pants on at this point.
“Mommeeeeee! You look boo-tiful with your….(wait for it)….RED NAILS!” Cue the tears.
It turns out that I do not now, nor will I probably ever, have my act together ALL the way together, but I’m learning to love myself as I am and I hope other moms will read this and do the same. I went to the baby shower – half polished (that’s cute if you thought I’d have time to finish in the morning), and it turns out that I’m beyond fortunate because my friends love and accept me just as I am – undomesticated, show tune singing, craft challenged, planner addicted, extension wearing, cocktail loving, half polished – me. No one actually cares if my nails are painted, no one cares if I cooked a meal fit for a Top Chef competition, no one cares if I got all the laundry folded in 1 day (as if); No. One. Cares. I’m learning to take it easy on myself and embrace being me, half polished and all. But if someone wanted to get me a nail salon gift card for my birthday, I wouldn’t be upset…