Having a child means you have to give up a lot. For me this was a career, my beauty time, and budget, for things like my hair and nails and designer duds, drunken debaucheries, bathroom privacy, live television, my memory, adult conversation, spontaneity (okay, not that I have ever been great at that, but any chance I had, are now gone!), Oh, and my sanity…anything else I can remember, I let you know.
Obviously, the career one was by choice…but not really. I was laid-off while 4-months prego (very obviously prego, I might add). No company in their right mind was going to hire some prego girl, when they know damn well they would have to not only deal with my maternity leave, but have to give up their office every 2 hours so I would have a ‘private’ place to pump my breasts with that awkward sounding portable pump and take up precious freezer space in the shared lunchroom refrigerator to store the collected dingy colored milk next to their hungry man meals. Not happening! Shit I wouldn’t either…I am not stupid people! So, career… gone. Check.
Beauty, gone. Check. Hey, wait a minute…this one I am not giving up with out a fight. I am a firm believer that women actually become more beautiful after having a child. Maybe because of lowered standards (which they are, believe me), or maybe that so-called pregnancy glow, actually comes afterward. Though both true, you still don’t have the money, time or desire to be as “done-up” as before. For what, only to drop your kid off at preschool, take them to gym class, have a library playdate, get spit-up on, or to have your french manicured acrylic nails wind-up with poop under them away (true story…I will get to in a moment). What the hell is the point? This is where living in a town like Davis, plays A BIG part in my demise. I will never forget when my mom came to visit from the East-Bay (where I am originally from) and came to my daughters”Creative Play” class with me. During the class, I could see her eyes, not-so-discretley, performing body scans on the other mothers instead of watching the kids interact. Upon leaving the class, my mom said bluntly, ” No wonder you don’t care about wearing designer clothes anymore…everyone dresses so frumpy here, and I think WE were the only ones in the class wearing make-up”. It was an enlightening moment for her…I think she realized it wasn’t motherhood alone that had made her otherwise fashion forward, label-whored daughter, Mossimo’s new spokes model. No one tells you that your shopping sprees at Nordstrom, Arden B, Banana, or other “fancy” places, will be replaced with Target, Wal-Mart, Amazon, Gap, Old Navy and The Children’s Place! This was a HUGE shopping shift for me, and an even bigger shock an awe moment. Let’s have a moment of silence for the fashion I have lost and the fashion you will loose………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………and, scene.
As for those nails, I mentioned. For those of you who have known me for many years, know that I was a die-hard “fake”nails recepient. I never thought I would take them off… after all, I had been rocking them everyday since I was 16. So, why did I take them off? When I was 4-months prego and recently unemployed, I helped out my bestie, Lauren by watching her 5 week-old daughter…wow was It was it an eye-opening experience. She was so sweet, but her poo, was not. While changing her diaper, I accidentally got that green gushy poop under my beloved nails. It was at that moment, I realized their days were numbered. A week later, they were gone. I mean that was only one diaper..I had millions in my future, and unless I wanted to get pink-eye on a regular basis, they had to go. What a sacrifice. Fortunately for me, 6 months later, they were no longer considered fashionable anyway (news flash for those of you who still have them).
Now for my hair, well let’s just say it was my gift from pregnancy (Lord knows my husband didn’t get me anything). Really, all of sudden, I had long, thick beautiful hair that I had spent my whole life wishing for. Sadly, it is turning darker by the day, my “dye” budget is albeit gone, and I have no time in the morning to actually style my gorgeous locks. Thus when you see me, I will most likely have a 6 inch root halo around the top of my bun-clad hair. Just my luck…
Given the amount of sacrifices I have endured, and you inevitably will, I think I will wait to inform you of the rest until tomorrow- to avoid any potential cardiac arrests. Afterall, I need you readers for my ego and my drive to carry on!