On Tuesdays and Thursday mornings I get my girls dressed up, fix their hair, make their lunches and get them loaded into the car to drop them off at our church for the Mother’s Day out program. This is has been a life saver for me because it gives me a break, gives me extra writing time and frankly keeps me sane, but also it’s been great for them because they’ve learned things and had social time. Busybee has been learning how to write her name and has learned about the seasons and nature. Babybee, well, she’s in a room with other little ones and they’re just trying to get through the day without someone drawing blood.
But one thing I’ve noticed throughout this year as I drop the girls off and then pick them up again…the other moms. They’re so much cuter than me. Fitter and more put together. They show up in their cute work-out gear, clearly heading to the gym after disposing of their children. Whereas I show up well, looking more like that picture there. Actually that’s a pretty good rendition of what my hair would look like if I brushed it. Anyone remember Rosanna-Rosanna-Dana from SNL? Gotta love Gilda Radner. Seriously, my hair does that, ask Emily, she brushed it one time at a conference just to see what it did. But I digress. In any case I’m a jeans (or capris as the season would have it) and flip-flop kind of gal. No make-up, unless I’m going somewhere fancy like a writer’s meeting or a photo shoot. And well we’re lucky if I’ve remembered to shave my legs.
Those other moms though, they’re so cute. Maybe they’re all younger than me. I was 37 when I became a mom. Or maybe it’s because I was a full-time writer for 7 years before I became a mom and got used to working from home and not having a whole lot of human contact throughout the day. I don’t know, but I know that I feel like a big ‘ol frump queen when I drop them off. Now has this changed my appearance? Heavens no because I don’t follow convention and I’m far too old to start fixing myself up for reasons such as these.
So how about y’all? Are you the dress-up-every-time-you-leave-the-house kind of gal or are you (I’ll resist the urge to call any of you lovely ladies frumpy) a comfy-wearing-your-tennis-shoes-and-t-shirt kind of gal?
I’m Robyn DeHart, AKA Basket-Case Mama, but not because I’m crazy (though really, what mom isn’t?) but because I have a slight obsession with baskets, well containers really. I’m a bit of an organization nut and I love to containerize stuff. And yes, I’m authorized to use words like that because I am also a writer. But back to the kids, so I’m mom to two ridiculously beautiful little girls and I can say that without bragging because I didn’t actually make them. Last year my husband, The Professor, and I adopted said little lovelies from the foster-care system here in Texas and now we’re a big happy forever family. Busybee is three and so full of joy it just oozes from her. Babybee is a walking-talking toddler who has a heck of a temper but is so cute, it almost keeps her out of trouble. Though neither of my girls are newborns, I’m fairly new to motherhood compared to the other peanut butter moms, but we’ve settled in as a family as if we’ve always been together. When I’m not trying to keep up with my two bundles of energy, you can usually find me on my laptop on Pinterest, no, that’s not right, um…you can find me writing, yes, that’s it, writing my latest historical romance. www.robyndehart.com