What Motherhood Does To You

I have been reading Freedom by Jonathan Franzen, and I love his writing. Colorful. Descriptive. I like it so much that he has another book that I would like to read, Corrections. So off to Borders I go. I went as is. I had been chilling around the house on my one measly day off, so I had on a sweatshirt and scrub bottoms, which is my standard these days. My hair was thrown up in a bun and my get-up was completed with a worn-in pair of Asics running shoes. I figured that anyone I could possibly see would think I had just got off of work or something and forgive my sloppiness. Wrong. I'll explain in a sec.

Let me just lay out the scene for you and give you some background info. First of all, I used to be the type who would refuse to leave the house without full hair and make-up done. Those days went out the window when Ev was a baby. Once he got older and it was less of a production to leave the house, I reverted to my Diva roots. And then I started working crazy hours. And started back at pre-med in addition to my crazy work hours,and they I got careless again. And then came Zach.

So here I am at Borders, right? And our Borders is in a rather upscale shopping center. Poor people don't go to this shopping center. Trashy people don't either. You kind of need the full get-up to blend in. So imagine my dismay when I find myself perusing the shelves of books in my ensemble, already sticking out like a sore thumb, and look down to find sweet potatoes all over the hem of my sweatshirt. My white sweatshirt. And some more on my leg. And I catch a glimpse of my reflection and find some in my hair, which has started to escape its bun and is sticking out in a way that makes me appear as if I have escaped a mental institution.

This is what motherhood does to you! I think I could've died right there in the Literature section. Seriously. Because I didn't have my buffer with me. What was that buffer? The baby. Because most people realize, when you look like a slob but have a young infant with you, that the baby is the reason. And you are instantly forgiven. But Zach was in the car with Evan and John So instead I was just some random sloppy crazy person who didn't care that she had some horrendous orange crap all over her. Thankfully, I found my book and 2 others rather quickly and hit the road.

But then I got to thinking about the other ways motherhood has changed me. I'm less selfish, more responsible. I can find deeper meaning in just about every aspect of life. I'm a better person because of Evan and Zach. And suddenly I was proud of the sweet potato stains.