You first, me last

Yesterday while sitting at a stop light I looked at myself in the rear view mirror. I had on no make up, my face, still wrinkle free, seemed plain. Boring, even. My chin, covered in little red dots that I haven't seen since high school. I looked myself in the eyes and well, sighed. What happen? How did this happen? Two years ago I was up and at 'em daily, make up on, dressed for success. These days I'm lucky to be dressed in something besides work out clothes once a week. I don't wear make up, in fact, I haven't purchased make up in a year. Right after my sigh, I looked at my hair. I had to get closer to really understand what I was looking at but it was gray hairs. GRAY HAIRS at 28? No. You're shitting me? What? Hold on. That's really blond hairs that just LOOK gray because my hair is so dark. NOPE, that's gray hair. Oh no!

I've noticed so many changes in myself lately, changes that seem to have happened with my title as Stay At Home Mom. My style is less than impressive. It's just boring to tell you the truth. I find myself ALWAYS dressed for comfort not for style. My hair is lucky if it's brushed. I don't care about my hair anymore, it doesn't matter. My 3 year old and 8 month old don't care about it either. I asked.

I wash my face each morning and brush my teeth. Put on my comfy clothes and hit the playground. Run around in the grass. Collect rocks, only to bring them home and paint them. I usually have food all over me, not my own, but my children's. I sit in the floor and play with Spiderman and Magneto and Wolverine. I have my kids sitting on my lap, pulling on my hair/clothes/boobs.

I guess this phase of life isn't about being in style or having the cutest haircut and color. It's not about my accessories either, because we all know if I have earrings in my ears Sunny will work on pulling them out all damn day. It's about being comfortable I suppose. Comfortable with the focus not being on myself  but on them. It takes some getting used to. Sometimes I cringe when I look at what I've become, but have to remember how my boy and girl look at me; like I'm the most beautiful person they have ever seen. They don't care about my stained t-shirt, stretched yoga pants and mismatched socks. To them, my smile is all that matters, and that smile shows up every single day.

These next few years will take their toll on me as I put myself last and them first, but I believe when it's time, I'll be back. And better than ever.