When I was in high-school, I gave myself manicures at least twice a week. I’d hang out in my room for hours listening to mixed tapes of Pearl Jam and Counting Crows, while giving myself a manicure deluxe. There were times when my polish corresponded with my purse. In retrospect, this is gross and so very 90’s, but it worked for me then.
Since having kids, my hands have become tools – soaking, cleaning, wiping, washing, scraping, poking, picking. Kids destroy so many dreams of which beautiful manicures are not exempt.
The other day I took inventory of my person:
Yoga pants, no yoga? Check.
Nursing bra, no nursing? Check.
Running shoes, no running? Check.
White V-neck cotton tee from Target (stained)? Check.
Forgotten hands and ragged cuticles? Check.
(Not really going to address the shaving part here but be on the lookout for a future post from my sister-in-law titled: Ode to the Motherload: Bring Sexy Back, Step One: Shave!)
I’m starting with my hands. I admire a good manicure, short nails preferred if babies are involved. Ever have poop caught under a fingernail? It’s terrifying.
When I see other mothers out and about also subscribed to the glamorous look referenced above, in my mind, if she has pretty manicured hands and nails, she must have some semblance of her shit together. I admire that, too. Underneath that mom uniform is a girl who cares about herself and still likes to feel pretty when things are 75% of the time ugly. Mom the girl, mom the woman, mom who was, is playing peek-a-boo with the world through her hands. She must have it together or at the very least, she hasn’t disappeared.
Today I traveled back in time, took the V-dub to the Wal-greens and picked up all the essentials, including the most fabulous new nail color on the planet: Revlon’s Colorstay Longwear Nail Enamel in Stormy Night (come back to me when the angels stop singing).
Now, I know what you O.P.I. Cajun Shrimp-Wearing Tiger Fans are saying:
Hale no! Southern ladies don’t wear shades of grey!
Oh, but they should! This is the most perfect Fall color. Consider it a dark grey with hints of muted, vintage purple undertones. Throw in a little mustard pencil skirt or blouse and you’re ready for some football. Seriously, it goes with everything.
What do you do to remind yourself of yourself?