I miss my stilettos. I miss lunch with my girlfriends. I miss being able to spend hours doing my hair. I miss being able to wear clean clothes that stay clean for longer than five minutes. These days, if I'm not barefoot, I'm in flats. Lunch is a handful of crackers or nuts or whatever I can eat with one hand. I rejoice if I get to merely wash and comb my hair – styling it is no longer an option. I used to enjoy looking at fashion websites and daydreaming about the perfect shoes. Now, if it doesn't have to do with raising my daughter and being the best mother I can be, I click away.
However, this is my time. I take four minute showers because I can't bear to be away from my daughter longer than that. I throw my wet hair into a ponytail so that we have more time to play and discover new things together. Makeup isn't a necessity because all she needs to see are my eyes and smile. Clothing has been reduced to wearing what has best access for nursing and I'm proud to be able to provide my daughter with all the nourishment she needs.
It is often said that being a mother requires sacrifice and I didn't truly understand that until this point. For some, it's a job. For others, it's a social life. For me, it's my clothes, shoes and hair. You may laugh, but that's a big deal to me! I used to spend hours researching hair products and comparing ingredients to maximize shine! Now, I smile ruefully when I pass a mirror and my hair is fuzzy, I have on no makeup and spit-up is dribbling down my back because the burp cloth is in the other room, AGAIN. Oh yes, and I'm wearing the same outfit for the third day in a row.
But I look into her eyes and make funny noises so she'll flash that million-dollar smile at me and just then, it all fades away. I lay her in my arms and we stare at each other and I know that she could care less if my shirt matches my pants. Just then, I realize that I would give up all primping sessions for even more time with her because too soon, I'll once again have all the time in the world to play with my hair and put together a cute outfit. She will discover her independence and she won't need me as much or as often. So for now, I relish my time, as I have it. I may be barefoot, with fuzzy hair and mismatched clothes but I have never ever been happier.