Since being either pregnant or breastfeeding for the last three and a half years, I haven’t really spent a lot of money on clothes. Or bought many clothes at all for that matter. Why bother when I’m a new size every month? I didn’t bother with maternity clothes since I am far to
cheap frugal to buy pricey maternity clothing for just a few months of my life. So, the majority of my ‘regular’ clothes have been stretched by a pregnant belly and washed too often because of baby puke.
So my mission today was to buy some new clothes for myself. I recently purged quite a bit of old clothing out of my closet too. I am going through a phase where anything lying around the house just needs to be thrown out. Including clothes I hadn’t put on my body for more than a year or, in general, anything that is just too old to look presentable in public.
Off to the clothing store I went. I get in there and notice that the music is blaring some extremely odd club music. I kind of want to laugh at it and half-heartedly search around for another mom to crack a joke about it. I didn’t find another mom in the store, and all the sales associates looked like they were still in high school. I somehow didn’t think they would understand.
I grabbed several items and hung them on my stroller. I had to bring my littlest one because she’s still breastfeeding. She’s pretty quiet anyways being only 4 months old. Sleeps, eats, poops.
My main thoughts as I browse through the store are whether the item is breastfeeding friendly, how easily the fabric will show puke, and if it will hide my not-so-flat tummy. Why is everything so short these days?
Anyways, I head to the change room and timidly try on the clothing. I feel a little awkward because I haven’t done this in so long. The sales associate has asked me how everything is fitting about 3 times before I’ve even tried on a shirt. When did shopping become weird?
I try on a dress with a V-neck. Perfect, I can pull down the neckline for breastfeeding. It’s the only summer dress in the whole store with that ability. I feel a bit frumpy in it so I leave the change room to check it out in a bigger mirror.
The sales associate watches as I tenderly rub my belly and explain that this is the first time I am buying clothes in a couple years after being pregnant a few times. Nodding to the stroller sitting in the change room. I feel a little big in these clothes – is this supposed to be a high waisted skirt or a low waisted? I am so not with it.
Then she says, “well you look good, for a mom.” For a mom? Did she just say ‘for a mom’? My brain starts racing. I know I’m a mom. But when did I become…momish? And why do I get the feeling like momish is a bad thing?
For a mom? I’m only 27 years old. But suddenly I felt a lot older.
I’m proud of this body. I grew two beautiful babies. I literally grew their bones and their faces and their little chubby legs.
I leave the store feeling a bit perplexed about the comment. I bet she didn’t even notice she had offended me. I don’t even know if I was really offended. I’ve just never heard that comment spoken to me before. I don’t think she meant it in a mean way. It’s one of those comments that kind of just slips out.
But it makes me think. When did I change from ‘looking good’ to ‘looking good for being a mom’? Am I less of a woman now or more of one? Am I in the less desirable category that should be headed for the mom-jeans store?
I guess I’m a bit momish. Is it my belly pooch or the fact that I smell like stale puke? Or does my haircut make me look momish?
Whatever it is, I’d rather be a good lookin’ mom than look good for being a mom. It’s all about semantics. Am I right?