Cleaning out my closet
Posted on 02. Feb, 2010 by Deb Plunkett in Beauty (or lack thereof), Guilt, The balancing act
I hit my breaking point this weekend. It happened in a flash and I didn’t even see it coming. My first Jekyll and Hyde mommy moment was scary, but at least it was somewhat well-timed. Nobody wants to admit – especially to themselves – that they’re not a perfect, patient parent all the time. But nobody can be a perfect, patient parent all the time, right? We are still human after all.
My beautiful, happy-go-lucky little girl is definitely in the “let’s test the boundaries” phase already. Her newest thing is hitting. Sitting here in my rational mind, I know that, to a 15-month-old, hitting is not a hateful or deviant act. But when I’m running on fumes and my nerves are frayed, it hurts to be hit, both physically and emotionally… and after about the 25th “no hitting” plea from me being met with a giggle, I lost my cool. I yelled at my baby in a way I never I could. Not my proudest parenting moment.
Fortunately or unfortunately, my husband was home to witness it. Fortunate because he was able to take over and let me go cool off; unfortunate because now not only do I know I’m an unfit mom, but he does, too. Ok, so maybe unfit is taking it a bit too far, but I certainly felt that way for a few hours after the incident.
It doesn’t really take a genius to deduce that all I really needed was a little break (I just have to get it through my thick head that there’s absolutely no shame in that). So, the next day, my wonderful and sympathetic husband carted the little one over to Nana’s so mommy could have a few hours to herself – three solid hours to do anything I want, in fact. Bliss. What would you do with a few hours of “you time”?
Me? I cleaned out my closet!
It was so incredibly cathartic. Before becoming a mom, I was a total fashion victim. I had a passion for clothes. My closet was stuffed to the gills with cute and trendy duds… only problem being that they no longer fit right and were definitely NOT flattering. The comfortable go-to pieces I wear on a daily basis had no place to live so they were all in hap-hazard piles on the floor. Getting dressed in the morning (okay, afternoon) was becoming a complete stress-inducing nightmare. And so it was that I decided that my precious alone time was going to be very well spent in the closet.
It wasn’t easy at first to admit that I’m really not going to wear those cute little minis or sky-high heels again. I had to suck it up and accept that even if I do ever lose those last few pounds, I am still not going to look good in a skin-tight glittery tube top and low-slung jeans. Besides, am I really going to slip into those puppies to chase a toddler around? Yes, I’m sure my neighbors would highly appreciate me channeling my inner Janet Jackson on the playground! The truth is, those clothes just aren’t me anymore. I’m a mom and now I often dress like one. Oh well. Time to get real.
Yeah, it’s sad to see so many clothes that remind of silly times with my girlfriends, trips to Vegas with my hubby B.C. (that’s Before Chloe, if you’re wondering), or just of who I was before I was “Chloe’s mom” but I’m happy with who I am now and I’m ready to embrace it. Hanging on to all that stuff somehow felt like it was holding me back.
Who knew? Cleaning out the closet: If I had realized that’s all it would take to restore peace and balance in my life, I would have done it long ago!
Oh, and bonus: I’m taking a major haul over to the consignment shop so I can hopefully I can score some dough while I’m at it (and maybe get me some new mom jeans? Ok, let’s not take it too far here)!
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