Horrible analogy, I know, but that's what popped into my head and it hasn't left yet.
I've been thinking a lot about Freedom vs Being With My Kids. I though now would be an apt time to discuss this since I've read about this topic on these blogs. So if you read those posts and see me cover some of the same ground, I'm sorry.
I recently was in a discussion with my sweet sister-in-law about parents that schedule regular absences from their children. I was quick to judge those mothers as insensitive to their children's needs and she was quick to correct me. She reminded me that some moms need a break from their kids in order to be the best mom they can be. I eventually agreed with her, but in the way that you're actually saying, "Well, I guess for SOME people it may be that way, but NEVER for me."
And then I ate my words. A week or two after this conversation BuggaBoo went to a friend's house for a playdate. And it was bliss. I think I took a nap with Doozer. When BuggaBoo came home I was in a much better position to be a better mom.
Also recently I've caught on fire for a new project in my life. In short, there is a lack of cute breastfeeding clothes, a severe lack of cute breastfeeding dresses, and a BRUTAL lack of breastfeeding clothes patterns, period. I've been brainstorming new nursing openings that I can use on clothes so I can dress myself the way I want to be dressed. As I was drawing inspiration from ready-to-wear clothing I was struck with an epiphany: Why don't I start a line of pattern for nursing clothes? And then the next thought was shameful, guilt-inducing: Why couldn't I have figured this out before I had kids? Which makes no sense, since I wouldn't have a need for nursing clothes without these babies of mine, but who needs logic?
And so has started a war in my life. I'm trying to balance my needs for freedom with my needs to have family ties. Note I'm not talking about my children's needs. *I* need my babies. When The Hubby takes BuggaBoo out for a few hours I look forward to the time they'll be back. When The Hubby takes the two of them out for a walk I anxiously wait for them, unable to do anything for fear that Doozer is screaming to be fed. Never mind the fact that she'll sleep for two hours in the wrap, I know she is screaming.
So then the children come back and mob me. My thoughts at this point are, "Why didn't I take better advantage of my time alone?!?" And then there is resentment. 'Round and 'round it goes, the life of a mother.
So, back to dressing up for the doctor. My feeling is mothers are so relieved to be doing an activity that doesn't have to do with their children, directly or indirectly, that they're going to take full advantage of it and dress up. Because a doctor will not talk endlessly about your children (which we all know that's what happens on your hubby-wifey dates) and a doctor isn't wondering why you're kids aren't with you and the doctor might actually appreciate not seeing you in spit-up covered sweats.
So, this is what I wore for the doctor:
Cardigan: Given to me by my sister
T-shirt: Thrifted and then altered by me
Neck lush: Made by me
Skirt: Made for me by my MIL, maternity wear
Boots: Given to me by my sister, same as above
Baby: Made (mostly) by me
Vintage butterfly hair clip: Worn by me as a child, still with me today