"I've Never - Mommies Edition"

If you were born between the years 1965 and 1990, you've played (or at least heard of) the game "I've Never". Those of you who say you haven't, are either lying or are boring.

For what I'm guessing is decades, college students across this great country of ours have sat in tiny crowded dorm rooms with a case of the cheapest beer they could convince someones older brother or sister to buy, to play "I've Never"; the game where you drink too much and share too much- both on purpose. One person says something that they supposedly never did, and if you have done that thing, you drink. It's a very mature and sophisticated game. Your parents tuition dollars hard at work.

When I became a mother, and my inhibitions were thrown out with the days of uninterrupted sleep, I began to laugh to myself at some of the things I was doing and the places in which I was doing them. One trip to play group made me quickly realize that I wasn't alone. So I got to thinking, what if mothers got together and played "I've Never - Mommies Edition"? Imagine what they'd have to share! My guess is that it would be enough to make the college kids nicely buzzed on Natural Light, stare bug eyed and wince.

So in the spirit of fun and full disclosure, here is the part of the fictional "I've Never - Mommies Edition" that would have me motioning to the bartender for a refill:

- I've Never breastfed my baby in the backseat of my car.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in a dressing room.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in front of my dad.
- I've Never breastfed my baby in front of a stranger.
- I've Never licked a pacifier after it fell to the floor, convinced that my saliva alone made it clean enough to give back to the baby.
- I've Never sat in on a conference call while using my breastpump.
- I've Never led a conference call while using my breastpump.
- I've Never knowingly put on clothes with spit up on them.
- I've Never blotted purred peas off my shirt to avoid an outfit change.
- I've Never used the restroom with my baby on my lap.
- I've Never changed a diaper in a bar.
- I've Never changed my shirt at a stoplight.
- I've Never left the crib bumper on even thought the book said I should remove it.
- I've Never sang the same nursery rhyme for an hour straight because it made my baby smile.
- I've Never put the aspirator up my own nose to be sure it worked.
- I've Never been seduced at the thought of mom jeans.
- I've Never sat in the bathtub just a few minutes longer when the baby began to fuss through the monitor.
- I've Never worried about something ridiculous, then talked myself out of it, only to worry about something bigger.
- I've Never thought my kid was cuter than your kid.
-I've Never stood over my baby's crib watching her chest rise and fall to be sure she was still breathing.
- I've Never dreamt of a playroom.
- I've Never fantasized about my husband changing diapers and folding onesies simultaneously.
- I've Never convinced myself that Karen Neuburger nightgowns were as sexy as they are comfortable.
- I've Never sniffed an article of the clothing, passed it to my husband and asked, "Is this dirty?"
- I've Never pumped and dumped- the next morning.
- I've Never gone to the park in my pajamas.
- I've Never reheated my coffee five times in one morning.
- I've Never begged to go to Bunko.
- I've Never not brushed my teeth until noon.

I've done some crazy things as a mother. Definitely things "I never" dreamt I'd do, when I was young and naive in college and likened motherhood to babysitting . But in a circle of my own kind- perhaps during a girls night out- with the kids safely asleep in their suffocation hazard free cribs, and our husbands in charge of their midnight diaper changes- after a few rounds of "I've Never - Mommies Edition", we'd all be drowning in our cosmos. Only instead of hiding our shame after admitting to all of your dorm floor that you have fantasized about your RA; in the "Mother's Edition" we'd hold our head's high with pride at the lengths we went to love our babies. Even if it came at the price of close to indecent exposure in a public place.

Beauty is in the Eye of the Mother...

Being a mother is the most beautiful way I became ugly.

Seriously, aside from the obvious and inevitable weight gain during pregnancy, motherhood comes with a hefty price tag in the looks department. I am the first to admit that becoming a mother is the most wonderful, beautiful expression of ourselves. I, for one, am finding that at least toward other children, I am a more patient and perhaps more understanding person since Marin was born. But let's be real. All that aside, motherhood is a shirt stained, pony tailed, sticky-hand-wiping, six-pesky-pounds-left-to-lose kinda life.

Here are some examples of my own:

-I've mentioned it in posts before; I sometimes wear clothes that are perhaps just a little too snug. Lie. I regularly wear clothes that down right don't fit. Example: last year's jeans leave a little muffin top? Just throw a baggie shirt over the top and viola. Sitting down is a whole other story. Bending over sometimes just doesn't happen. I wish that I had a little sign to wear that explained my larger derriere: "Just had baby. Don't judge." Or better yet: "Please excuse our mess. Recent childbirth survivor."

- Although I refuse to be that mom whose fashion sense stays frozen in the year in which she became a mother; for every hour I spent reading InStyle and Lucky magazines in my pre-baby life, I spend at least three hours reading Parents or Cookie Magazine and What to Expect the First Year. When I was packing for a recent trip I had to make a desperate call to Molly to ask if chandelier earrings were still cool and to settle the score over an internal debate on whether or not I could wear white jeans after labor day.

- I just finished a book where the main character's son goes off to college. As he does, the mother reflects on him as a little child. Cue the ugly cry. I literally had to contain myself from creating a full on scene on the train, at just the thought of Marin going off to college. The girl isn't even old enough to acquire a grass stain, and I already am wiping dripping mascara off my face at the thought of packing our car with a bed-in-a-bag, shower caddy and a wipe off board for her dorm door.

- Make-up on the weekends? Huh? Oh, right. Are people still doing that? I give make-up three and a half minutes Monday-Friday. Five if I have some extra time. But on Saturday and Sunday, unless there is a occasion that necessitates a babysitter- forgetabouit.

- I used to love to shop for clothes in little boutiques that lined my favorite quaint neighborhood streets. I also was known to stalk the J.Crew website for end of the season sales, so I could load up. Now when I boutique browse I find myself skipping right to the children's stores. (And okay, if I'm being truthful, I also have been doing some shopping for our house, because, well, it is big and empty.) But I realized the other day that I haven't bought non-maternity clothes for myself since... wait for it... April of 2008. Whoa. I'd say that Jason should give me some sort of medal of shopping restraint and fiscal responsibility, except that I have actually still been shopping, and, when the items aren't for me, it makes it all the easier to drop things in the cart. Oh, I love baby clothes! :)

-Shaving my legs: Let's just say that I decided to "treat" myself to taking the time to do this the other day and I had completely forgotten how good it feels. I couldn't stop feeling my legs all day. But that's just it. Shaved legs are absolutely a luxury in my current life.

But although the adventures of becoming a mommy might be littered with breast milk leaks on your last clean shirt, squeezing into last years jeans and blotching what little make-up you have time to apply, off your face at the thought of the inevitability of letting your child go; it really is the most beautiful thing in the world when...

- Your baby learns to reach up for you, and does so every morning from her crib.

- You witness your child and her friend laughing, smiling and playing together.

- Your child has even the smallest success in their development.

- Your baby hugs you tightly for comfort when they meet someone new.

And when they bury their little head in your neck when they are tired... even if their face is covered in pureed squash and it means sending your shirt directly to the dry cleaners....

There is just nothing more beautiful than being a mommy.

Mom Jeans: I get it

We have all made fun of the term "mom jeans" at least once in our lives. It refers to the hideous over shot of a waistband pulled up under the nose of a woman you mockingly call "mom".

Well, I get it.

It seems that after I had Marin I was left a little "thick" in the middle. If I wear my jeans at my hips (like the kids are doing these days) it hits me right in the heart of that "thickness" (read: belly fat) and results in the dreaded muffin top. Not pretty in the least. However, if I hike my pants up to kingdom come, it creates a more streamlined uni-chub, which somehow results in making my mid-section look less terrible.

I fear that this may be the start of my regrettable fashion era. 20 years from now Marin will stumble across a picture of me with my pants hiked up under my chest and beg, "Mom! Your pants!!" Necessary evil, Marin; necessary evil.

I'll continue on my slim down quest. But in the meantime, I might not be as hip. My apologies in advance, Marin. You were still worth it.