Left, baby’s outfit. Right, mom’s outfit.
All day while I was preparing for my New Year’s Eve party, I debated a very important question: what should my daughter wear?
- The red Hanna Anderson dress with the matching tights and shoes?
- Her new outfit, covered in ruffles from head to toe, with the tags still on it?
- Or the pink corduroy dress with the white furry collar?
And then, what would she wear tomorrow for a New Year’s Day party? Meanwhile, I yanked on whatever was clean in my closet and didn’t even wear makeup. Going without mascara to an event was a first.
When I was in high school, it was an event just going to the mall. I made sure my hair was perfect and my outfit was killer. If I passed by harried looking moms with frizz and worn out shirts, I’d think to myself, “I’d never be seen in public looking like that.”
Fast forward ten years later, and I look like that during New Year’s Eve parties that I host at my own home. It’s amazing how having a baby changed my priorities so completely from planning my outfits to planning hers. If kids are really a reflection of their parents, why can’t I get out of sweats?
Today I’ll put her in the pink corduroy dress which I actually have to iron (I don’t even iron new curtains before I hang them, never mind my own clothes.) And I’ll wear yoga pants.
