The original post that started this blog...just to give you an idea of what I am about.
Hope you have fun. I am!
I recently purchased two new pairs of yoga pants. Nice soft jersey knit in grey and black.
I was disturbed at how gloriously happy this purchase made me.
Somehow yoga pants have become the staple wear for mommies of the infamous generation X. they are stretchy and comfy and when worn with a cute t-shirt and hip-sketcher-type shoes you can look downright presentable if you happen to run into your single/adorable/in shape former office-mate at the grocery store with two kids hanging off your leg.
“Hi! God, you look great,” you say.
“Wow, Sara, its been awhile. You, ah…your kids are so cute!”
Well, one can try, can’t one?
And here is a question for this generation of mine. Do we even do yoga?
Some of us are fanatics about it of course. But I would wager that most of us wearing yoga pants to the grocery store/playdate/everywhere-in-between probably don’t.
I do actually.
Not the sweaty kind of yoga to get oneself in shape. I do the "my-arm-is-aching-from-lugging-around-my-25lb-baby" yoga, the "i-need-to-breathe-out-bad-playdate-vibes" or "my-kid-used-marker-on-the-couch-AND-peed-on-the-floor" kind of day.
Sanity saving yoga.
I have come to think of it as hallway yoga. Our past two rentals have only had carpet in the hallway so when babycakes was in bed (FINALLY) I would sneak out to the hallway with the lights on low and stretch and breathe. I found it quite helpful too when pregnant with babycakes-the-second, hanging on to walls as I attempted to double over my big belly to stretch that damn sciatica.
I should make a workout video. You would buy it, right?
So that is what I have to say about yoga and yoga pants.
Aprons, well, I have started wearing them too. I realized as I looked down at another uncomfortably wet T-shirt after washing dishes that an apron would be handy about now. So I got one out. A blue backgrounded-sunflower-covered apron.
I look ridiculous in it.
I know I do.
In fact what prompted the facebook status update that later prompted this blog is that my husband, upon seeing me in it for the first time, totally stopped mid-sentence, looked me up and down and lost his train of thought.
I could see it on his face...“What the..?”
Even if he denies it I did momentarily see it on his face.
Up until now I have been wearing my apron in secret. Only the kids have seen it on me. Babycakes-the-second wanted one too the other day so I pulled one out, doubled it over on her fat belly and sat her up on the stool to "help" me with dishes. She was quite impressed with herself. She probably thought it was like the superhero capes that babycakes-the-first pulls on and off over his head every ten minutes.
Yes baby dear. Aprons are kinda like superhero capes.
I have embraced the apron lifestyle more and more so it was only matter of time before I actually wore one I suppose.
I bake bread.
I use cloth diapers on my babies. I even sew my own.
I buy organic.
I even brew kombucha in my basement. AND my kid actually drinks it.
Before you write me off as one of those moms (or put me on a pedestal depending on your viewpoint) it would be more honest to amend the above list slightly.
I bake my own bread…when I have time.
I use cloth diapers and sew my own….because I am cheap.
I buy organic….when I can afford it... otherwise I get my veggies from my mom’s giant-ass garden or my own little background plot, again, because I am cheap.
I do brew kombucha (kick ass if I do say so myself) but I also let my kid drink soda on occassion ("ooh, mommy, its fizzy like kombucha!" he says in wonder).
Also, to confess, my kid does love the occasional Happy Meal. (“I want a TOY!”) and I happily buy it for him. And I eat a Big Mac.
So here is my blog...regarding Kombucha-drinking, McDonalds-eating, aprons-and-yoga-pants-wearing reality. Hope you have fun.