Mutt Amongst Purebreds – Female Insecurity

At Mom’s Morning Out drop-off, I am a mutt amongst purebreds. Each morning I pull into a parking space and herd the toddler to the sidewalk while I unload the baby and then clumsily make my way to the door eying all the other moms chatting in their tennis skirts or their designer jeans and blouses. I feel their eyes on me, and I think a million thoughts of how they must perceive me looking like I walked straight out of a session of summer camp.

This morning I arrived wearing this:

It didn’t help that my Target gym shorts were riding up between my thighs rubbing together from the twenty pounds of postpartum fat I have only managed to add to since giving birth. It didn’t help that I felt like my gut was about to bust from the previous night’s dinner at I-Hop where I consumed French toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs, a double order of bacon and my son’s hash browns. It didn’t help that I had yet to shower and my bangs which are now just past my nose were tacked back with bobby pins.

This has nothing to do with parenting or keeping up a house. Honestly, I unfairly assume these women outsource most familial duties while sipping on lattes, feet propped up for a pedicure, boxy designer shopping bags on the floor next to them. This has nothing to do with men. The only men at MMO are the church staff coming in an out of the building. I’d probably feel more comfortable around men. I reflect on if I disappoint my husband for a second, and while I’m sure my husband loves to see me in a dress, I know he loves that I am a little rough around the edges. He likes to kiss me knowing my face won’t melt off onto his lips. He likes that I run through the sprinkler and dig in the dirt and enjoy tromping through streams.

This has everything to do with women comparing themselves to other women on a purely superficial level. It embarrasses me that I do this. If it bothered me enough, I suppose I could change. No, I can’t afford their clothes, but I could put a little time into my hair and at least make sure my clothes match. I could shelve my Chacos for some cute flats. But here’s the deal, I really like cuddling the baby in the morning until I hear the toddler yelling “Maaaamaaaa!” I like dancing with them or watching Curious George on the sofa. I like playing cars on the floor. I like spending a little time writing for my blog and reading news articles. We play up until the minute we have to load up the car for school. And darn it, I really like my Chacos.

The truth is, I am never going to be a purebred. It’s not how I am built. So I need to quit complaining and quit comparing and be content with who I am. Much of me is who I have chosen to be, and the parts of me that really matter lay beneath the surface anyhow. I am valued and loved, and I am beautiful even though I don’t see it most of the time. In my house, I am a queen amongst kings. Our noble steed – Miles the fish. The lady who is forever in waiting – Nala the kitty. Our castle – a happy little two-story on a third-acre of unmanicured lawn and upturned gardens. And it works for me.