http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317 Momservation: Nothing says your family missed you like being greeted with a pile of laundry, unflushed toilets, and evidence of the food they ate still on the counter.   ☺        ☺        ☺   So, Operation Haven’t-Aged-a-Day was a success.   I polished myself up good in preparation for my 20-year reunion. Tightened everything up nice with a steady diet of triathlon training – no one was going to catch Miss Best Tight End 1989 with her butt looking like a carport.   Suffered weeks of graying hair, seeing my premenopausal future staring back at me in the mirror, just so I would be the right “natural” shade of sunkissed brunette on the right day.   I had 18 year old girls at the local trendy boutique act as my personal fashion stylists, earning their commission to best figure out how to get a body that pushed out two kids to look like I never got chastised by a doctor for gaining too much weight during pregnancy.   In the final hours I closed with the last details – a pedicure for the one toe that would show in my peep-toe pumps, nails that see polish less than an eclipse cycle frenched-up, and my first time experience spending large amounts of time with toothpaste on my face to see if it really would clear up zits.   My immensely patient husband, having to live with this new strange woman suddenly obsessed with fighting the sands of time, was constantly muttering that it must be a girl thing. And it was. And I admit it was all very silly. But like my friend Chris also concedes, “I’m a bit of an overachiever.”   And yet for the thirteen people (but who’s counting, really?) at my reunion who gushed that I hadn’t aged a day – my new favorite people by the way – that moment of accomplishment made it all seem medal worthy.   But then after the last cocktails wears off, the hyper excitement of seeing formative acquaintances runs its course, and realizing you’re not 20 years younger and can’t party all night anymore, reality creeps up like the pain from your four-hour too high heels.   I have aged a day. Many, many, many days. And I’m okay with that. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have the life I love, the career I’ve established, the home I’ve created, the priceless friendships I’ve nurtured, the husband I adore, or the amazing children that give me purpose in life.   And nothing brings that all home like an 8 year old daughter who has seen me make her breakfast with pillow lines still etched on my face, parading around in holey underwear and stained T-shirts, hair thrown back in scraggly pony-tails for large portions of her life, my head shoved in toilet bowls, washing, dryer and dish washing machines, my face etched by the lines of grief, anger, frustration, happiness and joy.   And still she says to me, “Mommy, you don’t need to do anything. You’ll always be the most beautiful mommy in the world.”   I just wished she had told me that sooner and saved me from myself. Momservation: Nothing says your family missed you like being greeted with a pile of laundry, unflushed toilets, and evidence of the food they ate still on the counter.   ☺        ☺        ☺   So, Operation Haven’t-Aged-a-Day was a success.   I polished myself up good in preparation for my 20-year reunion. Tightened everything up nice with a steady diet of triathlon training – no one was going to catch Miss Best Tight End 1989 with her butt looking like a carport.   Suffered weeks of graying hair, seeing my premenopausal future staring back at me in the mirror, just so I would be the right “natural” shade of sunkissed brunette on the right day.   I had 18 year old girls at the local trendy boutique act as my personal fashion stylists, earning their commission to best figure out how to get a body that pushed out two kids to look like I never got chastised by a doctor for gaining too much weight during pregnancy.   In the final hours I closed with the last details – a pedicure for the one toe that would show in my peep-toe pumps, nails that see polish less than an eclipse cycle frenched-up, and my first time experience spending large amounts of time with toothpaste on my face to see if it really would clear up zits.   My immensely patient husband, having to live with this new strange woman suddenly obsessed with fighting the sands of time, was constantly muttering that it must be a girl thing. And it was. And I admit it was all very silly. But like my friend Chris also concedes, “I’m a bit of an overachiever.”   And yet for the thirteen people (but who’s counting, really?) at my reunion who gushed that I hadn’t aged a day – my new favorite people by the way – that moment of accomplishment made it all seem medal worthy.   But then after the last cocktails wears off, the hyper excitement of seeing formative acquaintances runs its course, and realizing you’re not 20 years younger and can’t party all night anymore, reality creeps up like the pain from your four-hour too high heels.   I have aged a day. Many, many, many days. And I’m okay with that. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have the life I love, the career I’ve established, the home I’ve created, the priceless friendships I’ve nurtured, the husband I adore, or the amazing children that give me purpose in life.   And nothing brings that all home like an 8 year old daughter who has seen me make her breakfast with pillow lines still etched on my face, parading around in holey underwear and stained T-shirts, hair thrown back in scraggly pony-tails for large portions of her life, my head shoved in toilet bowls, washing, dryer and dish washing machines, my face etched by the lines of grief, anger, frustration, happiness and joy.   And still she says to me, “Mommy, you don’t need to do anything. You’ll always be the most beautiful mommy in the world.”   I just wished she had told me that sooner and saved me from myself. en-us OK - Now I really want to cry.  Not only was your Momservation right on target (with how I feel most days).  I LOVE that the kids tell us what we really need to know.  That we are loved for who we are, period.  Thanks for sharing what many of us have and will go through at one time or another. http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84802 http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84802 OK - Now I really want to cry.  Not only was your Momservation right on target (with how I feel most days).  I LOVE that the kids tell us what we really need to know.  That we are loved for who we are, period.  Thanks for sharing what many of us have and will go through at one time or another. I didn't mean to make you cry - but I love that you were moved and shared it - isn't it great that other moms understand? Thanks for taking a moment out of your day to read my musings. Enjoy the journey! http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84803 http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84803 I didn't mean to make you cry - but I love that you were moved and shared it - isn't it great that other moms understand? Thanks for taking a moment out of your day to read my musings. Enjoy the journey! Hey, kids can say the best things. It's wonderful. (Now, conversely, they can also say the WORST things, but let's focus on the positive.) I'm glad you took the time to get all dolled up, regardless of your motives. It feels good to put your best foot (or rear) forward. :) http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84804 http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84804 Hey, kids can say the best things. It's wonderful. (Now, conversely, they can also say the WORST things, but let's focus on the positive.) I'm glad you took the time to get all dolled up, regardless of your motives. It feels good to put your best foot (or rear) forward. :) Awww, kids are so the best... aren't they? You know, sometimes I really DO feel prettier in a pool cover up fresh from doing laps without a stitch of makeup on than I do dressed to kill. Isn't that funny? I like to think it's part of getting older and being comfy in our own skin (at least more than an 18 yo.) Did the toothpaste work btw? And were you REALLY Miss Best Tight End 1989!!!??? http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84808 http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84808 Awww, kids are so the best... aren't they? You know, sometimes I really DO feel prettier in a pool cover up fresh from doing laps without a stitch of makeup on than I do dressed to kill. Isn't that funny? I like to think it's part of getting older and being comfy in our own skin (at least more than an 18 yo.) Did the toothpaste work btw? And were you REALLY Miss Best Tight End 1989!!!??? It's hard to say with the toothpaste. It did dry it out, but I might have been on the downhill side of it - I practically had to tie my hands behind my back to not mess with them for three days. And yes, of all the things to be recognized for in HS, it's a dubious honor to be known for leaving a room better than you enter it.  http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84810 http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84810 It's hard to say with the toothpaste. It did dry it out, but I might have been on the downhill side of it - I practically had to tie my hands behind my back to not mess with them for three days. And yes, of all the things to be recognized for in HS, it's a dubious honor to be known for leaving a room better than you enter it.  This post was great!  My 20 year was three years ago and I was so freaked out before ... then, like you said, a couple compliments of "you still look the same!" makes it all worth while!   One thing I will say is, I'm sure you didn't have to work NEAR as hard as you think you did.. and there were a ton of other women at your reunion that went through just as much primping (if not more!) than you did!!!   Glad to see you had a good time!  http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84851 http://www.sacmomsclub.com/home/Blog/kellimwheeler/10317/#c_84851 This post was great!  My 20 year was three years ago and I was so freaked out before ... then, like you said, a couple compliments of "you still look the same!" makes it all worth while!   One thing I will say is, I'm sure you didn't have to work NEAR as hard as you think you did.. and there were a ton of other women at your reunion that went through just as much primping (if not more!) than you did!!!   Glad to see you had a good time!