As a domestic engineer, I find that I have Mommy uniforms. Unless absolutely necessary, I don’t wear makeup, and I eschew the hair dryer at all costs. I work out almost every morning, so my AM uniform is sweatpants. After I shower off the endorphins, I grab for my trusty PM uniform: jeans. By the time my husband gets home from work, I’m usually back in sweatpants thanks to sticky 2-year-old hands (fingerpaints, applesauce, you name it, my daughter touches it), splattered dinner ingredients, or simply my desire to be comfortable.  Unless I have special plans late in the day or it’s date night, my poor husband doesn’t see me wearing anything but Mommy uniforms. 

Furthermore, I used to paint my toenails with verve, either because of athletic superstition (I swear I only swam well when my toenails were bright red) or when it’s summertime and my feet are more exposed. But now, thanks to winter shoes, Mommy neglect and a highly chlorinated pool at the Y, my toenails have only the remnants of a paint job from about a month ago. And my fingernails, don’t even ask about my fingernails.

So when I get dressed today I am going to pretend I am not a Mommy. I will wear makeup, I will style my hair, I will don something other than jeans, I will not be wearing sweatpants when hubby walks in the door, and I will paint both my toenails and fingernails. Red carpet here I come!

Success! Makeup: check. Styled hair: check. Khaki pants: check. Khaki pants still on upon hubby’s return from work: check. Toenails and fingernails painted: double check.  I am officially a domestic goddess.

I had to exercise great willpower when it came to changing back into my uniform in the evening. First, oil splashed up on my shirt while I was cooking.  But instead of giving up and reaching for my comfort clothes, I simply started a load of laundry and put on a new shirt. Then, hubby called to say he was going to be late. Oh man, I thought, I have to postpone the sweatpants. And even more difficult was when the kids’ bath time rolled around and a tidal wave crashed on me. (Little C promptly blamed it on her Dora loofah.) But I’m proud to say that I was not wearing a Mommy uniform when greeting my husband. And it did not go unnoticed.

It definitely felt nice to look nice, but the events of this evening made me wonder how long I can keep this up.  I’m quite certain I will regress back to my grungy ways the next time hubby goes on a trip and the only people I have to impress are 2 little people who don’t really care what I look like.  I am just not destined to look like Bree or Gabby in “Desperate Housewives.”  I mean really, what true domestic engineer wears a cocktail dress while cleaning the toilet and unloading groceries?  I guess I’m not that desperate.

This is what happens when you leave your children alone to play dress-up.  Sadly, I think Little C needs to outgrow her night-time Pull Ups before the Navy will allow her to enlist.

2 Comments on Operation: Beautification

  1. I don't even have the excuse of caring for little kiddos to explain my jeans-and-T-shirt "uniform." I don't think I'll ever dress up to scrub the bathroom (as hilarious as the image might be), but you're right that it is nice to play up some feminine touches once in a while.

    I love the picture, by the way. The combination of the thumbs-up gesture and the gigantic boots is priceless.

  2. I wear pj's daily. I can not see getting dressed to the 9 with no where to go. I always wear jeans and all. I will put a bit of makeup. There are days where I say "oh well" and just deal.

    The picture is priceless! I love it!

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