Uniform of Mom

I am wearing sweats today. If you must know, it is because my youngest woke up four times last night to eat and my eldest woke me up at 6:30 to do the same. Of course, he wanted pancakes, not milk, but it still involved me dragging my butt out of bed to feed someone other than myself. I finally stumbled down the stairs about half an hour before preschool, and in order to get everyone out the door and somewhat presentable before nine, I had to don a pair of sweats.

I got them yesterday at Target and although they are trendy and brand new, I am still a mom... in sweats.

Yikes.

When did this happen? When did I go from looking sexy and alluring to wearing something made out of fleece? Was it when I learned how hard it was to get spit-up out of hand-washables? Or was it when I discovered that the dry cleaners is unable to removed strained squash from silk? Although I still have been known to stumble (literally) into my OB's office in a pair of pointy-toed, four-inch-heeled boots, most of the time I am wearing something a little easier to move around in. Have you ever tried wearing a skirt around a two-year-old? They don't call them curious for nothing.

I guess what I'm wondering is, Does anyone (except for my husband who is bound by the State of California to) find me attractive anymore? Don't get me wrong, "dumpy" has never been part of my definition, not by far, but my standards of attractiveness sure seem to have slumped to a level I don't think I'm comfortable with. Although fleecy sweats sure are comfortable, but I digress. The point is, I used to be the target of raised eyebrows and sly smiles, but now I'm just a woman unaware that she's been walking around with peanut butter on her boob all day.

And why would the cute guy at the Starbucks drive-thru who is young enough to have no idea what HyperColor is be attracted to a thirty-ish woman in a ball-cap and sweats driving an SUV in desperate need of a wash with two screaming kids under three in the backseat? Why wouldn't he run screaming to the nearest wholesale house to buy a Costco-size pack of condoms? I certainly would, and they're my kids!

The truth is, I have become a mom. Like it or hate it, I am no longer trying to secure a mate to ensure the survival of my species. My role is now that of the nurturer, the singer of lullabies, the buyer of Goldfish crackers. And what I need to remember on days like this is that beauty of the body is only remembered for a moment; the beauty of a mother lasts a lifetime.