A Week In The Life Of An Artiste.

Ah, a nice watercolor/chalk mixed media.

Miss? No drinks in the theater.

THIS BIG.

Uh, no I was NOT using the purple marker.

Boycotton. That's Right.

Rainbow stripes are slimming.

And now, a half-week update on Boycotton (a term I've just now thoroughly invented to define my week-long ban on sweatpants):

I continue to not wear my cozies- excepting, obviously, those occasions wherein it is not only acceptable but expected; bedtime, early evening viewings of Jane Eyre, etc., etc.- and here is what I've found.

It is difficult. Because nothing fits. Nothing. I am too small to wear my maternity pants (you so rarely hear the upside of gestational diabetes), but haven't as yet been able to smoothly transition to my normal jeans. The operative word being "smooth."

And yes. I am temporarily boycotting sweatpants but have no issue with the denim.

So. Thursday I wore ill-fitting jeans and a sweater. Upon which Suzy promptly spit up, but which I continued to wear. Because I am fancy and was able to hide it under the baby sling. I wore makeup and brushed my hair. P.J., who reads this blog and was intensely aware of this project, told me that I looked "nice." (And when I announced that I was going to put on my pajamas, he gave me a look that I SWEAR asked if I wasn't already wearing them.)

Friday. That night was Neil's going away party, and I dressed up the gals- and myself- to have an early din out on the town. Because nothing says FUN like taking a toddler and a newborn to a pub by oneself. (Oh, the looks.) My pants and top were no match for my elder daughter's self-picked outfit of a sweater dress, skinny jeans, and shiny red Mary Janes. Hipster. (Susannah wore a clever hat and a baby sling. I wore Susannah.) I'm pretty sure that I did something different with my hair. I might even have used a styling product. Today's experiment went entirely unnoticed except for the Under-2 set. (Nora, for her part, has been amazing throughout this endeavor. "Mommy, are you wearing stripes? Is that an orange shirt? Your hair is pretty! Can I wear that shoe? There's a sticker on your leg!")

Saturday. I looked awesome on Saturday. Layers, boots, showerliness, all of it. We all looked really good. Why? Well, we had to jaunt over to our pals' home for the birthday party of their two year-old, Elijah. Which...is actually next weekend. (Sorry, Cassie.) And did I mention that they just had a baby and Saturday was their first day home? Yeah, we're that family.

On Sunday we went to Mass, so I wore an entirely different sweater and pair of bizarrely fitting pants...but paired with the baby sling (holding the zonked-out baby) it only served to bunch up the sweater. Causing me to look like a lady wearing an ill-fitting afghan and bizarrely fitting pants. I had put my hair half up but, due to the crazy gales of wind, I looked like Don King. In an ill-fitting afghan and such.

When we got home I gave up and put on my Hampshire hoodie.

Which is the new subtitle of my memoirs.

Keely Is A Grubby Grub From Grubville.

I used to rock it. Sure, it was my wedding, but...

This is getting to be a problem.

Now, I enjoy a good pair of sweatpants as much as the next gal...but the time has come to kibosh. Sure, I had a baby five weeks ago and absolutely, whatever I wear WILL be covered in glitter and squashed blueberries by the end of the day...but that's really no [long-term] excuse.

I've gotten lazy. Not about the childcare, laundry, energetic toddler activities or writing (sloppy, yes- but not lazy). However, insofar as wardrobe is concerned? Slothful. Slovenly. (Sleepy.)

I hate to think that I'm falling into the Mom Trap of overly casual attire. It's certainly not because I'm too busy to get myself dressed. (I always get so annoyed, for example, when people say they're too busy to do things like pee. For the love of God, you're not launching a timely rocketship! Go urinate already!) I was way busier when I nannied full-time with Nora as an tagalong infant friend. And I [mostly] came to work all dressed and such.

It's not as if I don't have super nice clothing. Although there is a wide discrepancy between my collection of hoodies/yoga pants (seriously- when is the last time any of you saw any yoga action on my part?) and the perfectly folded cashmere sweaters/Italian leather boots. Maybe I should ask Santa for some Middle Ground clothing. Chinos, maybe? Dungarees? I don't even know what they're called anymore.

And- definitely- it's a lot nicer for a newborn to sleep against/spit up on a soft, unadorned piece of clothing as opposed to something with buttons and weaves and bells and whistles. ESPECIALLY the bells and whistles.

It's just that it's really easy to feel like working from home is all Saturdayesque. You know, all Big Mug Of Coffee, Cozy Hoodie, NPR On The Radio kinda Saturday. (Which, I'm quite certain is what a goodly portion of people think stay at home momitude really is. And they'd be right, ha HA!)

But it's really hard to feel productive, like Full Day Of Work productive, in one's sweats. And I'm the first to admit that this could be easily amended by putting on a pair of, I dunno, khakis or something. But unless I get dressed at 5am, I'd have to maneuver a nursing/clinging baby and a climbing/questioning toddler to do so at 7am. Or 8am. Or even 2pm. Which can be done. But- and here it comes again- I'm lazy.

It takes a moment like having one's husband ask why I'm all dressed up- and realizing that it's because I'm wearing a headband. Or the fond, though faded- so, so faded- memory of waking up early to put on makeup so that P.J. would think I looked that good while I slept.

So I'm going to try a little experiment and post the results next Thursday.

For the next week- starting last night, in fact- I'll be wearing something resembling Clothing To Be Worn In Front Of Strangers every day. (Boy, that sounds creepier than intended!) Day One went wholly unnoticed by the Over 2 set. But since I had signed on to bring a toddler and a newborn to the doctor on a rainy night- at dinnertime- this oversight can be forgiven. Although I looked awesome.

I shall also be wearing makeup. Why? Because it's just the kind of whimsical time-detractor that I've come to expect from myself. My novel would be done by now if I put that kind of daily energy into it.

Or maybe this new routine will kickstart my productivity! I'll finish the darned book before the interested parties realize they no longer want it! I shall learn to iron!

At the very least, I'll be pretty.

Ish.

Er.

Today's Wordless Wednesday Is Brought To You...

...By the Letter 'P'...and the Number 4[am]. 

Can you find all of the 'P' words? (The 4am is evident everywhere.)