I am ready to give up on being presentable.  It just isn’t going to happen.  I am not a neat person to begin with.  I am rather clumsy and prone to spilling coffee on myself, or dribbling salsa down my shirt.  Condiments land on my pants on a regular basis.

One thing I marveled at while watching “The Blind Side” was Sandra Bullock wearing so much white.  I cannot even imagine owning that many articles of white clothing– socks do not count.  The only way I can keep a white shirt stain free is to never wear it, or only wear it when I am going nowhere near my children, food, or beverages.  When does THAT happen?

My kids only want my attention when they are filthy, bleeding, or have runny noses.  Today the baby was in rare form on this front.  Tantrum?  He rolled his little sweaty and drool covered self in the grass and THEN came to me for comfort.  Or when he tripped in the garden, and was covered in dirty.  By the end of morning chores I was covered in dirt, grass and saliva.

I did not bother to change.  I knew odds were good another disaster was waiting for me.  I hate being right.

“Mo-om!  The baby pooped and is taking off his diaper!”

Good grief.  Moms know this seldom happens with a nice, firm bowel movement.  He had managed to squish it around and up.  I was so busy wiping him down that I didn’t notice he had it on his hands.  And around his mouth.  Oh GOD NO!!!!!!!!!  Now my kids have done some grossness, but this was the first one to sample what came out of the other end.

When I continued to smell poop even after washing my hands, I realized I had a nice smear across my tank top.

Alrighty then, time for a fresh shirt!

I have gone in public with snot streaks across my shoulder, banana on my hem, a sucker stick adhered to my jeans.  I have found cereal crumbs in my hair, ketchup on my purse.  I am that frazzled mom who is whisper yelling at her kids in the check out line, who has 2 tissues and a sticker fall out of her bag when she tries to pay.

My husband and I were at the grocery store recently, which doesn’t happen that often.

He hisses at me “look!”  He points to a woman dressed more for a seedy bar than grocery shopping.  “Look at those heels!”

Grocery shopping in heels paired with blue jeans?  Lord, she was even wearing make up and had probably had showered recently.  She only had one child trailing in her most likely perfumed wake.

Sure, I was jealous.  She was wearing a clean shirt!