Jennifer three thousand

I just have to say that the best thing about being a SAH parent is the fact that the clock doesn't rule my life anymore (next to the fact that I get to be home with and for my children--I swear I mean that!). Not that I was ever to great at listening to the clock when it did rule my life, but I don't have that constant cloud hovering over my head telling me that I am disappointing...everyone and should always be doing something other than what I am actually doing.

Of course, I also love that I don't have to stress out about what to wear. That's not to say that I shouldn't stress out about that--at least occasionally. I mean, for at least two years I didn't even look in a mirror. Seriously. Can you imagine? I guess I had my mind on so many other things and was so worried about  the appearance of everyone else in my family that it just didn't even occur to me to look. That and the fact that I knew I wouldn't like what I saw pretty much sealed it for me.

I decided recently that I would take the time to actually look at myself after my shower--to look at my hair if and when I brush it and to try my best to at least attempt to look like I care about my appearance. I figure if I actually make an effort and tell myself that I care, maybe my body will reward me. It can't hurt, right?

This new...relationship...I have with myself is proving to be time-consuming. I like being able to shower and get ready in ten minutes. I like being low maintenance. What I don't like?  Looking like Molly from Mike and Molly-- but not from her role as Molly--from her role in the movie Bridesmaids--I don't remember her name, but she was HILARIOUS, though hilarity doesn't necessarily go hand in hand with hot. In fact, hilarious and hot tend to operate quite separately. He's a fair God...those who make you chortle or guffaw tend to not be models and those who are Brad Pitt pretty (yes, I know he's a...HE, but tell me he isn't pretty...SEE--you can't!) generally don't have people laughing 'til they pee. Of course, I hoped to be HILARIOUS (let's be honest--that ship has sailed!) AND hot (hot never even stopped on my doorstep), but evidently you can't just will it to happen.

I always wanted to be one of those natural beauties...you know...like Jennifer Garner and Jennifer Anniston. And Jennifer Lopez. And Jennifer-Love-Hewett (though maybe her...ladies...are less than...natural...) And pretty much every single Jennifer I have ever known (and I grew up in the seventies and eighties, so you know that is like an infinite number of Jennifers). I would name them all, but there isn't enough room or enough time. Plus, I'm pretty sure that would be creepy/stalker...y, so let's just leave it that (in my eyes, at least) those named Jennifer could roll out of bed each day without make-up, unshowered and unbrushed, and throw on grungy clothes and still look great--hot even.

I don't know why I wanted to have that girl next door look (unless the girl next door had a head full of frizzy hair and a proclivity for spilling--well--everything all over--well--everything), but it started in middle school. Although I wasn't even allowed to wear make up, I had some great friends who would help me to make my lashes electric blue or bright teal (gotta love the eighties!) and would help me remove it again before the walk home. Sure, I got caught most of some of occasionally. but it was worth it to have my slightly creepy science teacher sing, "Electric Blue" to me in class!

I had one friend who gave me a hard time every time she saw I was wearing make up and even when I wasn't. It got to the point that I would lie every time she snarkily (it's a thing) asked me if I had makeup on my eyes. I would stare her right in the eyes while fluttering my bright blue eyelashes and say, "NO!" I'm pretty sure I fooled her. (I never claimed to be too bright...) I don't know why it was her business or why I felt the need to lie, but I obviously wasn't too good at it! A victim of the eighties, I also remember using Final Net and Aqua Net like it would save my life (as I single-handedly took out the ozone) and I remember my father saying, "What guy is ever gonna want to run his fingers through that?! His hand'll get stuck--they'll have to amputate!" and although I had some snotty teenagery retort at the time, it really hit home with me. I agreed with him--and no teenager ( not even if her name is Jennifer) wants to agree with her father.

I became kind of  ashamed of using make-up and tried to limit my product usage (though I am a product whore--that is a story for another day!). I would put brown or black mascara and eyeliner on my eyes and pretend like my eyes just looked like that. I'm not sure who I thought I was kidding--"No--I'm not wearing make-up! The smudgy brownish black stuff on my eyes is naturally  a part of my face!" Why I thought it was better to have blotchy facial deformities rather than a little bit of make up on my face, I don't know--maybe because the deformities were natural? I told you--I never claimed to be too bright--to get into the psyche of that girl would be quite an adventure, one I would not want to endure alone!

Of course, if my mother had just named me Jennifer like all of those other mothers did in the seventies, I would be low-maintenance AND hot and wouldn't have had to have a secret relationship with eye make up. Who knows--I may have been HILARIOUS, too.