Today I had a leisurely morning with my son (we'll start calling him Aidan, primarily because that's his name) and then had my hair done before going to work this afternoon. This, incidentally, felt like a little treat after a week when a sick son needed lots of extra attention and I still had to try to fit in work wherever I could.
Got to the office about lunchtime and had a nice conversation with a coworker, Scott. When I went to catch up with Paul, who works for me, I felt something funny and realized that little cut pieces of hair from this morning were stuck in my lipgloss.. Luckily, I wasn't embarrassed to get them off my lips around Paul because he's going to marry my sister in September. This means that in a brotherly sort of way has to deal with things like my pulling little chards of hair out of my lipgloss (and also my sister and me discussing girlish things in front of him, which is pretty funny to watch, by the way).
A couple of things made this a little more funny to me, though. First, after having Aidan I felt pretty dumpy (no, not the funny part). It had been coming on for awhile as I no longer look 16, but for some reason after Aidan I was the essence of frumpy and kind of resigned to it. Recently, however, I've realized that if I make even a tiny effort I feel eons better about myself (nicely leveraging the effort, the accountant in me says). Therefore, I've been making a little effort lately - I even accessorize sometimes, which is completely new for me. The fact that I was even wearing lipgloss shows that I made an effort today and was feeling pretty high-falutin. That'll teach me to get even a little cocky, won't it?
Second, Scott came to find me right after I realized what had happened because he couldn't stand it anymore and had to tell me that I had something wrong with my face. He felt stuck in the middle of a Seinfeld episode and couldn't stop staring at my lips; didn't I notice while we were talking that he couldn't take his eyes off my mouth? (No, but he did seem very interested in what I had to say, which made me feel even better about myself and my day.) He said that, much like asking if someone's pregnant when you're not sure, he's learned not to question certain things about women's faces. He finally decided that we were good enough friends for him to tell me because, and I quote, "it looked like you had stitches in your lip or maybe a very strange mustache - I just couldn't figure it out." It made for a pretty good laugh once he realized that I am not growing a beard and that it was okay to laugh.
When I was a little girl, I remember thinking that at some point in time, I would no longer feel like a little girl, clumsy, unsure and unkempt. I would feel confident, sophisticated, put-together, even worldly. If I remember correctly, that time would've been age 21; of course, I also saw myself married with a couple of kids by 25, so there you have it. Anyway, I no longer think so. I do, however, take much more joy now in feeling like a little girl than I did then.
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2 comments:
Oh go ahead and thank your stylist!
I felt frumpy after Studley was born (yes, you can call your son by his name. I'm sticking with Studley)and went to Aveda for a makeover. It was $25, which they applied to the eleventy-hundred dollars of product I bought. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
And for the record, I think you still look just like when I met you (five or so years ago).
Excellent! I hadn't even thought of a makeover; I just rely on my ten-years-younger sister to keep me in line. It may be wise to bring in a professional, even if she's trying to sell me products.
Thank you; you are a graceful and beautiful friend!
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