DIDN’T. SEE. THAT. COMING.
Being asked to guest blog reminds me of the time in sixth grade when Lyssy asked me to go to the King of Prussia Mall to get a 14kg BFF heart charm. In other words, it just feels good.
And since lately I’ve been sitting over here wondering if anything I do on a daily basis is remotely cool, I’m loving the high five from one of my favorite entrepreneurs…not to mention author of this very blog, one of the only blogs I read religiously.
I mean, let’s talk people–> is substituting hummus for the norm in deviled eggs really that interesting? Because for a week I thought it was. And I texted that idea to every WW mom friend I have (that means Weight Watchers, skinny biatches). And now as I sit here guest blogging, I am wondering, when did I become such a big dork?
Last night I wore a sleeveless exercise top to bed. Matt asked (very nicely, but quickly because he knew the answer) ‘babe, isthataworkouttop?’ I don’t even know if I answered him (I’m so tired). It was definitely a workout top. Actually, it was the same top I used to wear to work under my dark gray Limited suit. I’m not sure why I think that just because I bought that top in a Palm Desert boutique it’s appropriate to wear as either lingerie or to a meeting with a cardiologist for a light chat on when to titrate statins. But what I can tell you is someday I will wear it to yoga. And tomorrow I will buy some cute pajamas at Target.
Which will be a challenge. That is, to buy anything at Target besides popcorn and the occasional banana. Seems we never make it past the Starbucks and the bathing suits. Insert Wills and Piper. Four and Two. Loves of my life. Double trouble. My cuddlers. The entertainment. The reasons why we have purple circles under our eyes. Love handles. And one, singular gray hair shooting out of my head – yep straight up, smack in the middle. Don’t worry I plucked it. (I don’t even know if that’s what you’re supposed to do with them)? When I asked my mom, she was in shock because she ‘never had a gray until her 40s.’ Sweet.
I have insane chiropractor bills. Chips Ahoy crumbs in my car. A wedding band that’s missing one diamond, but currently at the jewelers being repaired. And an antique trash can filled with poop at the entrance to our house. Crazy lunatic MOM is the new cool.
Why isn’t there a reality show about me? I’m a housewife. I live in New York. I make my own sauces. And guacamole. I work, sort of (behind-the-curtin.blogspot). I drink margaritas. I love Pinot Grigio. My homes are in desired zip codes. And, I feel an enormous internal pressure not to complain too much about motherhood, but I do anyway. Except not as much. Because no one in my inner circle does that as much. Because everyday we’re reminded that our problems aren’t real problems. Since when can a baby be born with cancer? Question of the year.
I guess, what it all really boils down to is one thing: these babies have changed our lives in ways we could have never imagined. Once a cool girl in the school, now just a mom tasting the mac and cheese (every time). Did I think in 2008 that later tonight I’d be crawling into a 50-pound limit crib with a little girl (my baby)? Or that tomorrow at 11:50 I’d be reading to a room full of four year olds about being a ring bearer (William is star of the week; Mommy reads his favorite book)? Did I think I’d rather BuggyLOVE all of my (6) nice-nice strollers (that I had to have) and sell them on eBay? And put the winnings toward a cleaning lady? And a reasonably priced double umbrella stroller?
Didn’t. See. That. Coming.
Thought I’d always carry my wipes in a trendy wipe case. That I’d be skinny and fresh-faced always. But being a mom opens your eyes to many, many new experiences that you weren’t expecting. All that matters in life is that these children are healthy and we make smart choices to ensure that. And that we are ourselves, sometimes not the coolest (sorry, yep, I will always double knot my shoes), but one thing is certain: right now…Mommy, Wills and Piper are BFFs.
Written by Kelly Curtin, Chief Mom at the offices of Wills & Piper
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