Monday, March 7, 2011

The lost art of heels.

When I slip on a pair of good ol' fashioned 4 inch heels, I transform into "super-mommy". No longer am I the mom who can't remember if the coffee maker is on or off. No longer am I the mom whose disheveled hair has a streak of desitin in the ponytail. No longer am I the mom who forgot to send my son to daycare on Valentine's Day with little cards and candy for the other kids. And, hell no, no longer am I the mom who went to work and didn't realize until lunchtime that there was a 5" wide spot on my pants covered in orange spit-up.

No. That is no longer me.

As soon as my toes slip into that supple leather, I am a mother who is strong, sexy and can handle anything and everything that comes my way.

I walk through the mall wearing my heels; diaper bag on one shoulder and baby on the opposite hip, and I see multitudes of envious glances coming my way.

"How can she do that?!?! A baby and heels?? That woman must be made of gold, I wish I could handle that!!"

The art of being a mother does not exclude one from being fashionable. It should not be used as an excuse to explore the world wearing sweat pants and sneakers, or worse: mom jeans.

I hold great pride in being a mother. I also hold great pride in my fashion sense.

There's no reason in the world they can't mix together.

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