Operation MILF

So here's the story about how I went from this, to this.

Once upon a time, I had a baby.

The End.
In my prime I had a six pack, nice arms, manicured nails, pressed hair that was actually styled, and waxed eyebrows. 

I wasn't always this way. I was an ugly duckling when I was young. SUPER skinny. So much so that I got called to the counselors office in 8th grade because someone had turned me in for having an eating disorder. Not true.

I was just thin. And no matter what I ate, I couldn't gain weight.

Adults told me to enjoy it but I didn't understand what that meant (until now). But one day I became comfortable in my own skin. I think this was late high school, early collage and the first five years of marriage. I wore some accessories, cute clothes, got my hair done every-other week and was looking pretty fly. I also had this strange light-colored contact thing going on which, looking back was a little weird, but it was a phase, and I thought I looked good.

Now I'm a mom. Things have changed a bit. I buy something for my daughter 100 times before buying something for myself. The last time I got all done up was the day before my daughter was born. I put on makeup, fake eyelashes, got my nails done. Wow. Little did I know that was the last of that!

The best I've looked since baby

Recently I've gotten this overwhelming feeling of ugliness. It sounds lame, and probably vain, but it's true. Here I am walking around with quite possibly the world's cutest baby but I look somewhat similar to a bum on the street. People probably think I'm the nanny. And not just because she's a few shades lighter than me.

It doesn't help my confidence any that every once in awhile I take a peek at style bloggers who post pictures of their infinite outfits on a daily basis, as if to remind me how fugly I am.

I know that's not their intent, heck, I don't have to look. But I can't resist. I look hoping to be inspired but I'm left feeling down about the way I look. Granted, many of them are single, or married without children. Part of me wants to tell them "call me when you've got a baby spitting up and pooping on you and tell me if you still feel sexy." But that won't get me anywhere.

My grandma told me the secret to looking young and keeping the wrinkles off is to not fret about things. If you are upset about something and can do something about it, fix it. But if not, let it go.

Now as I see it I have two options. I can swallow my pride and decide this just isn't the season for me to be wearing heels and designer jeans, and wait until my children are older to get back into the swing of things. Or, I can do something about the way I feel. Take a little more time to get ready in the morning and try to look nice. I've decided to try the latter, for now at least.

So this week, on a day I didn't have to be on air I did my hair and put some makeup on. I wore a skirt and even a necklace. Don't tell anyone but I didn't shave my legs, that was just too much. Baby steps people. The stubble wasn't too obvious so I figured with that, and the fact that I'd be at my desk most of the day no one would be staring at my hairy legs.

When I was getting dressed I debated wearing boots with my skirt, to style it up a little, but I decided I shouldn't over-think this. I don't need to be someone I'm not, I can wear my clothes and be comfortably me.

My friends noticed a difference and so did I. I thought dressing up wasn't comfortable. And it isn't, for rolling around on the ground with Lil' J, but it is when I go out. I'm just wearing a simple pencil skirt, button down shirt and flats, but I felt like a million bucks.

When I got home I got my daughter ready for pictures, but decided to pose in some with her so I could see how the style bloggers feel. I tried this before, and proved to be a fashionista failure, but my husband was taking the pictures and my daughter wasn't with me. It was much more comfortable snapping some photos myself and taking next to her.

This is where I am. Some days I'm dressed up for work, but most days I'm wearing yoga pants, or if I'm lucky, jeans and a t-shirt. I may not be as hot as I used to be but my husband thinks I'm hot, and I'm a MILF to him.

This is a part of a guest post series about ugly moms--Eer, moms feeling ugly. You can read more of my thoughs and what other moms like me are feeling by visiting Chill Mama Chill.