i had a baby 4 months ago. he wakes up around 3-4 times a night to eat from my body. i also have an unruly 3 yr old. and, i have the pleasure of staying at home with them both, and spending all of my time making sure that they don't turn out to be as smartassed as their mother. there are days when i feel so far away from sexy, it makes me want to cry. sometimes i do just that.
i am one of MANY mothers who is guilty of not taking enough time for herself. no, i'm not trying to be a martyr here. i am just SO over self-pampering and fixing myself up for anyone. i don't care. well... sometimes i care.
i have one pair of heels. scratch that, i have 4 pairs. but i have ONE pair of
f-me heels. the other 3 pairs are dusty, discarded reminders of my life as a corporate woman. and their heels are 1.5-2 inches, so they don't really count. my one, true pair of heels are 4-inchers, peep-toe brown leather, with an ankle buckle. and let me tell you, i can't walk in them for shit. i'm already 5'10", so the heels check me in around 6'2". additionally, i'm still carrying 15 extra lbs of postpartum weight on my frame. so, i put these heels on, and i am a LOT of woman to behold, and by that, i mean it's all downright frightening.
but, they make me feel sexy as hell when i put them on! and when i put them on with nothing else on? man, you can't tell me nothin' (except my name, when i fall and hit my head and get amnesia). so, when i need to bring my fancy back, i put on these ridiculous shoes that i cannot walk in, and i vacuum my house in them. and i am a rock star sex symbol for that moment in time. if i pass by a mirror, i might give the mirror a sexy smirk, arch my back (instant 10lbs off, plus a boob lift), and think to myself "hot." it's the equivalent of a cup of joe for my chronic fatigue; a band-aid, if you will. but it's a hell of a fancy bandage.
you can catch her blogging at www.lilasapron.com
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