My mom togs...

I used to pride myself on dressing well and stylishly whether I was out for a casual dinner with friends, professionally attired for work or just out running errands. It is amazing how having a baby/toddler has changed my approach to what I wear in 15 months time.

In years past I spent money on Ann Taylor suits,leather shoes and fashionable jewelry. My weekend jaunts to the suburbs were for finding steals on designer clothes at TJ Maxx and Marshalls. Now my once relatively hip closet is full of cargo pants, cords and jeans with a vast assortment of machine washable t-shirts and fleeces.

Thus I have a collection of perfectly beautiful clothes stashed away in storage. I struggle with what to keep (or more appropriately with what still fits)in hopes that someday I can wear some of my pre-Cole wardrobe again.

The upside to my cotton and polyester switch is that our dry cleaning bills have been drastically slashed and are solely as a result of Dave's needs not mine. I rarely wear cashmere sweaters or anything silk as I normally have a shoulder of snot stains where Cole nuzzled after a tantrum and/or sticky fingerprint smears on my sleeves.

I told myself when I was pregnant that I would not get caught in the sweatshirt and gym pants "mommy look" and I have kept that promise. I did not want to let myself drop to the level of actually looking like I had a baby at home who has me running on fumes most days. I rationalize that only other moms can recognize the dried bits of carrots and peas and snail trails of mucous on my top that have me looking like an odd art project. I used to check for telltale stains before leaving to run errands as I normally had to grab a washcloth to wipe away what I could without changing. Now I don't bother half of the time as getting out the door is challenging enough. Occasionally while walking in Target, I'll catch a glimpse of myself in a glass case or long mirror and find a yogurt dappled handprint on the back of my pants. Months ago I would be mortified, now I just shrug and keep to my task list knowing I have limited time before Cole fidgets his way sideways in the cart and begins reaching for objects on the shelves. My priorities have shifted and getting errands done in record time is way more vital than worrying about what complete strangers think of my spotted apparel.