Today we did our Christmas shopping, because frankly there’s nothing like the adrenaline of rushing to get everything two days before the big day. Yeah. That’s the reason! Ahem.

Anyway, it went really well and we got everything we needed in about three hours or so (we’re efficient shoppers) except for one thing – we really wanted a cowboy hat for Hayley and you would think such a thing would be easy to find, but no. The only thing that seems to exist these days in the world of dressup is princess wear. We did, of course, buy her a princess dress but George is going to try one more place tomorrow for a hat because she would enjoy wearing that while riding on her rocking horse.

It was strange to look around at other people while I was out, namely other people of the female persuasion. Everywhere I looked I saw teenage girls, young women, and people my age who looked fantastic. Everyone seemed to be wearing slim fitting jeans or pants, stylish cropped tops and funky jackets, their hair would be styled, makeup was perfect, and they all appeared to my sleep-deprived eyes to have just strolled out of fashion magazines.

Then I mentally scrutinized myself and realized I was wearing denim trackpants because they’re one of the only two pairs of pants that fit me that can be worn outside the home (I could also wear my kung fu pants but they’re not quite right for Canadian winters when you’re oot and aboot), a blue t-shirt that barely fits over my lactating hooters, and a purple zip-up sweater that had been spit up on five minutes before leaving home and which I wore anyway because I didn’t have anything else suitable to wear that was clean anyway. I was happy that I at least had remembered to brush my hair and teeth, and I had even put my contacts in and thrown some makeup on. Still, I looked nothing like these fashion plates roaming the stores in their perfect outfits.

I mentioned this to George and said I had to keep reminding myself that I just had a baby a month ago and so of course my appearance isn’t exactly top priority as long as I’m decent and reasonably hygienic. He pointed out that I’m a new (again) mother and it doesn’t matter and after all, I’m supporting a little life with my very body so I shouldn’t worry about it. I did counter with the fact that the mother behind us in line at the toy mecca of the world (Toys r Us) was about my age, had a little boy who looked to be under a year old, and looked like a celebrity. He said he hadn’t even noticed her at all since he was busy making cute faces at the little boy. That helped – if he hadn’t noticed, she couldn’t have been that perfect.

It’s not that I’m suffering from a lack of confidence or that I suddenly feel like an ugly duckling thrown back into high school. My self-esteem is still intact. It’s just that I couldn’t help but notice the difference, right down to the cute little purses compared to my big tote which was once really cool until I stuffed it full of diapers, wipes, and extra pajamas. It was sort of like the day I came home from the park with Hayley, covered in sand, ponytail falling out of my elastic, and carrying a neon pink Barbie tote bag full of toys only to pass someone from our building who was wearing full-on clubbing clothes, supermodel makeup, and hair that looked like it had been constructed by a team of professionals.

What it comes down to is priorities and I know that. Right now my priority is trying to remember everything that I need to bring for each kid when we go out. My priority is making sure the kids are dressed appropriately, that sippy cups are full, the potty seat is in the bag, Breanna’s warm enough but not suffocating under the blanket as we walk to the car, and that I’m at least not wearing my slippers by accident. If I can manage all that, then that’s more important than looking like Celebrity Mom.

But maybe next time I go out in public I can make just a little more effort to look pulled together like I used to once upon a lifetime ago. At least I can try when all my cute pants fit again. The crop tops may just go to the Salvation Army though.