"Schlumpadinka"

The Schulumpadinka....a mother who has let herself go. Oprah's term.
I have become one. You know, not taking care of my appearance to the best of my ability...not even to the good enough ability...more the "that'll-have-to-do" level.
It's time for a change.
Growing up and looking back I see that my mom really put herself last. When I was a little girl, my mom always curled & set her hair...I remember her sitting at the table with a round mirror set in a wooden frame as she put those awful pokey grey wire curlers in her hair....and she always wore red lipstick and colorful fortrel mini dresses with floral appliques. She was a farm wife too. And only wore pants when she was gardening, in the field or the barns. This all changed. For many, many years (all my pre-teen, teen & early adulthood) my mom let all this go and did nothing for herself. How sad. (This has now come full circle...no fortrel mini dresses again, but lipstick is back, and some sort of hairstyle and matching outfits and earrings and longer nails and more jewellery...)
Prior to my favorite husband and my wedding we attended a marriage class, and this topic was one we discussed and brought me to tears.
Well, here I am. A bonafide SCHLUMPADINKA. This is not what I want for myself, my children or my husband.
It's time for an intervention.
So this weekend I went to the MAC counter for some coverup to assist with the black & blue circles that a lack of sleep has blessed me with, then I ventured over to the clothing dpt for a couple of items that were on super sale (%50 off & %40 off the lowest ticketed price...WUHOO!!) and tomorrow?! Well, tomorrow I am off to my sister's for the morning where a lovely stylist is meeting us to cut & color my hair. A fun, funky color! Chunks of color. Such as purple or fuschia or blue. "I'm gonna wash that grey right outa my hair..." Sing it with me!
High maintenance is not my thing any more. It's just not feasible and I have zero interest in extending that much energy, BUT there's got to be a happy medium between zero and high.
So, here's to leaving the Schlumpadinka lifestyle behind. I may even bite the bullet and throw out those sweatpant-levis I love so much. The "jeans" that are so faded and baggy that after one wear they hang below my flabby cesarean belly and the crotch touches my knees....those attractive ones.....I MAY even find the strenght to part with them.
So, to all you mom-readers, take care of you. Do not let those fashionable fortrel mini-dresses become a forgotten misty memory.
Hopefully, I can do the same.