Ok, this is not exactly a deep Gospel commentary, but I have reached a huge stepping stone.
I wear make-up to go to mass.
I hate make-up. I was as reluctant to wear it to prom as I am now. I hate the way it feels. I am much more inclined to go for a run than to go to a fasion show.
But…an in utero baby sitting on a nerve that allows only 45 minutes of sleep at a time, plus three years of mommy sleep deprivation, added to a year of working on the ’04 elections, preceded by 4 years of Princeton have apparently left their mark.
So I bit the bullet. I started putting on make-up. I have given this some thought, because I don’t like to wear it. I am not doing it with a fly-lady-get-dressed-to-the-shoes mentality, but rather, to show that I can look like a resonably put-together mother who takes joy in her family. I’m not trying to hide the fact that I’m tired. Just trying to put my best foot forward and show that I respect those around me. Does this sound crazy?
Please tell me I’m not the only one who has reached this point!!
**(If Mr. Incredible reads this, it would behoove him to comment that your beautiful wife doesn’t need make-up.)