Graham Crackers

There was a time in my life where I was stumped. Which fragrance should I put on to go out? Should I be seductive? Sweet? Saucy? Hmmmm....I think I'll wear Prada! Yep, that's perfect for this evening. I would constantly get those appreciated compliments. "You smell GOOD! What is that?" I would thank them and never tell my secret, for fear that someone else would show up with my scent. No, that will not do!

These days? Yeah, quite different. Just like my life. Vastly different, in fact! I've traded in the signature scent of Prada, for the sweet smelling aroma of graham cracker! Oh yeah, I know you're jealous! You too, can be this sexy!! You can have graham cracker crumbs falling into your lap while you run your fingers through your hair, trying to capture the eye of your man while he surfs the channels on TV! You stretch out on that sofa, thinking maybe if I stretch just enough, run my fingers through my hair, tilt my head back just like this.....WTF?? What IS that?? Oh my God, it's the damn graham cracker again! I guess it's the flannel pj's tonight instead of the lingerie. Darn it!

Yep, having a baby is so darn sexy! You go from being a smitten kitten to a walking velcro board for crumbs, milk and any other food that can attach itself to you from those adorable little fingers you made sure were perfect the minute they entered this world. In the meantime, you have crumbs in your hair, vomit on your shoulder and shit stuck on your arm (I still can't figure out how that one happens). I can't really blame him for not wanting to cuddle up too much when I smell like a bigger version of our child most of the time.

Half the time, I'm lucky to get either my make up or my hair done. I'm a half done person. On a good day, I can get both done. On an average day, I'm not that fortunate. Shoot, I savor the moments when I can actually get a shower alone, without the baby attached to me somehow. Otherwise, I don't get a shower. So in she goes with me. But when I get out I have exactly 10 minutes to get dressed, moisturize and choose either hair or make up. That's it! That's all I get. Then the wailing begins because she's bored. Actually, her new trick is to crawl over to the toilet paper and unravel it and shred it to little bits until I grab her and redirect her attention.

I try. I really do. I'd like to look all put together by the time Billy gets home. I wouldn't want to walk in seeing me if I were him. Because if it were really my choice, I wouldn't give two shits what I looked like. But when you live with someone else, you make an effort to look nice and presentable because they have to look at you..... with beady little criticizing eyes!

So there I am, proud that I put my make up on at least. But the hair is pulled back in a bun, a ponytail or ball cap. Sometimes all three. With graham cracker tidbits on my shirt, my pants and my hair. Spit up and mashed bananas on my shoulder and well, usually I've figured out that the poop managed to find a way to attach itself to my arm and I've cleaned it off. With a smile on my face as he walks in the door, I listen patiently as he tells me about his day and all he's been dealing with. But really inside, I'm thinking "does he notice that I look like a librarian? Is he going to take this baby from me so I can hose off?"

The Prada seems like a very distant memory. I've traded in more than just the fragrance. But when I come through the door after working on a Saturday morning and see Billy playing Mr. Mom in his pj's at 11am, dancing for the girls in a sea of baby toys in the living room, I realize I'm not the only one who's traded in the fragrance. I'm pretty lucky to have him in the trenches with me. Graham crackers and all......