I recently discovered a great blog, the Mommyologist (i know, i’m sorry, i’m way late on that one. but better late than never, eh?). It’s hysterical. Mary is the Mommyologist – a career woman turned stay-at-home-mom, and she takes us on her journey through this craziness that is motherhood.
She’s funny, she swears, and she lets us know that it’s ok when we feel like total parenting failures and are ready to pluck our eyelashes out one-by-one – this job called parent isn’t always all puppies and rainbows. Or eating chocolates and drinking wine during nap time, if that ideal is more your style.
She also started the Mom Sexy Revolution over a year and a half ago. SM, what the hell is Mom Sexy? Yeah I had no idea either, but it’s really simple…
Just because we’re moms doesn’t mean we have to be relegated to the frumpy-jeans, bad hair cut, stuck-in-a-rut, no time for “me” brigade. We can still be cute, we can still be fun, we can still rock it. Mom + Sexy = Mom Sexy. Voila!
So anyway, I did a little super-sleuthing, went back through her archives to learn myself a thing or two about her Mom Sexy crusade, and believe or not, it’s stuck with me. And it comes to me at the most random times.
Now if you know me very well, you know I’ve never been one to “flaunt it” or really even consider myself sexy at all. So I’m more surprised than anyone to hear myself saying I’ve found a little Mom Sexy. But I totally did…
I’ve started working out as part of a group of 4 women with my trainer instead of just one-on-one sessions each week, and Monday night was my second group session.
Now for a little background, after the first week I came home and told R I didn’t think I was going to like this because there’s a girl in the group who was a track runner at UW-Madison, graduated 4 years after me, is tiny and petite and rock solid, and just had a baby 6 months ago and bears no signs of pregnancy whatsoever.
So yeah, I was jealous and felt like I was competing against her. Which I totally am not, we’re all just there for the workout, but I couldn’t shake that twinge of envy. I felt like a huge clod next to her. So that didn’t exactly get me off to the greatest start attitude-wise for this little workout group, and was pretty much the opposite of Mom Sexy.
Well this Monday I decided to try to kick it up a mini-notch. I wore a cute workout tank to the gym that night to show off my guns instead of a baggy t-shirt, and tried to feel confident going into the session. I’m in decent shape right now, but I still feel like an Amazon compared to the runner.
And of course, what did she wear that night? A cute little workout tank too and skin-tight running shorts to boot! Ugh. (i feel kinda bad talking shit about her, because she’s actually quite nice and i’m sure they would all think i’m an idiot for feeling this way. but whatever, i just do.)
All right, forget the outfit, you’re here for a good workout. And man, did we ever get our money’s worth that night! Our trainer must have majored in ass-kicking in college, and now she’s going back for her Masters in making-sure-your-clients-can’t-walk-or-raise-their-arms-the-next-day.
But at one point I was doing chest flys with a band stretched around a pole, and my Mom Sexy suddenly came to me. I was looking down toward the floor and thought hey, my abs look nice and flat right now. My arms look really strong. My legs look even stronger as they’re supporting me in this stance.