i think i need a new t-shirt

I think I'll go shirt hunting when I'm finished here. A new-found confidence has been lit in me and I just had to share. And yes, I'm bragging. Nyah.

If we're lucky, we catch a man who loves us whether we're dressed to the nines or sitting in a dirty spit-up-stained three-day old t-shirt and sobbing over a seventh poopy diaper in an hour. If we're lucky. And those awesome co-procreators take a minute of each day to devote a comment on our beauty before kissing us on the way out the door. And that beauty consists of skunk-poop-morning breath, pre-shower and definitely pre-coffee rumpled in the bedsheets with the lights off. But they know what they see. Or they will compliment a less-than-stellar dinner because they appreciate the level of difficulty maintaining order in the chaos that is homework in the dining room while preparing dinner and getting ready for scouts. If we're really lucky, half of us get one of those guys with stars in their eyes, still seeing their blushing bride reflected in the cataracts and blue perms hunched over a walker 60 years later. I am one of those. And I am truly grateful for the outpouring of love my man has thrust upon me me in the past decade. At times though, it was more like one of those mustard yellow jumbo team thermoses of ice water being dumped on my head, but it was there and I clung to the fact that at least one person on the planet thought I looked nice enough, even when I put no effort into it whatsoever.

Entering the period of time known as the "thirty-somethings" has changed this perspective, only slightly. Dude, I just realized that I have spent the last decade in frump-mode and while my other female counterparts were perfecting the art of going out in public, I simply made do by not leaving the confines of my home for days on end. I have since decided to make myself look presentable, so that my tweenager doesn't gasp at the sweatpants and ratty t-shirt I wore the last time we went to the mall two weeks ago. Because, yeah, everyone will notice and think that's the only outfit I have. Yeah, uh, right. I'm doing it so I don't, um, embarrass her. *ahem* Slowly over the past two years I have been getting new jeans and cutesy shirts, I bought something besides running shoes for my feets, and I fired my ponytail. I have been walking, running and biking with the dog every night for two months. In other words, I declare myself suitable for the public eye.

And apparently they've noticed my efforts. Last night I was walking my faithful exercise-enducing canine surrounded by all four of my offspring when a car full of guys drove by, apparently went around the block and made a second, slower pass and they all yelled "MILF!!!!" and honked. I waved back as they sped up, a grin literally splitting my face. There's the love of your life telling you that you're beautiful when you think you're not, and then there's a car full of strangers agreeing with him. That feels a little different. So yeah, I need a new shirt, one that proclaims that yes, indeed, I am a Mother You'd Like to Ffffff...fjord.