Away, I was, from my children for a week.
Oh, Master Yoda, tell us more!
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the cliché-est of times as I drank red wine and read bound pages of words and slept in a bed, alone, without fear of a krav maga tiny footprint in face alarm clock or, “Hey honey, you awake?” shakes of force, with a penis, so strong that the undead rise before Halloween.
Instead, I began moisturizing. I had not seen a bottle of lotion in 6 years. When I first pulled it out of my travel cosmetic bag, I had to check the expiration date. Just my luck, moisturizing does not go out of style…until August 2013.
While I was at it, I may as well shave. There was no sense in wasting a perfectly good, nearly expired travel size bottle of cheap motel lotion on overgrown leg hair, so, I took out some gardening shears and got to work. Besides, what the hell else did I have to do?
As I shaved, I noticed I’d packed a leave-in conditioner. Something I’d ignored since I clearly bought it when I was dating men who cared about the silky softness of my hair. Since 2006, that conditioner never even once bothered to offer to cut up my kids’ food. Leave-in conditioner is such a selfish bitch. Oh, you think you’re so great…doing nothing but just sitting around on people’s hair. Wow, so important *world’s biggest eye roll*. Then, I conditioned my hair. I take it back. That shit is amazing. I now realized I only hated what I didn’t understand. I was shiny and fabulous.
Then, I stared at my Victoria’s Secret era bottle of perfume. DARE I? I dare. I double dog dare me.
My legs were shaved. My hair was conditioned. My skin was moisturized. I smelled like kept promises. I was a woman, damn it.
Every day, I would further expand my beautifying ritual. At the end of each day, I would video chat with the kids. They would comment on how, “Pretty mommy looked!”. I would pretend that I didn’t know what they were talking about.
Today, after being home for 3 full days, my 3-year-old looked at me and said, “There’s my mommy! You look like my mommy again!” and my dry-skinned, unconditioned hair, stubble legged, “smells of the Earth” self smiled so wide that my once again ignored laugh lines around my eyes turned into laugh canyons.
I have never been less attractive. I have never been happier.