This is what I wore to Mass today.
The girls wore matching gold sparkly dresses and pink sparkly cardigans. Have I mentioned how much I love having little girls?
What I really want to write about, though, is last week. Last Sunday, I spent over an hour (okay, almost two), getting myself showered and dressed, working on hair, trying out an eyeshadow technique I saw on Pinterest, etc. Pat got himself and both girls ready. We then gathered up the girls and their accoutrements into the van in our typical rush.
Before we left, Pat snapped a pictures of me.
Ugh. Well. . . . That was a waste of time. (I truly truly am not fishing for compliments here. A lot of you left sweet, encouraging comments last week, which made me feel much better and which I appreciate. Still, subjectively, I was not happy with how I looked.)
We got to our pew and I looked down to see that Girl 1’s tights were on backwards, so the dingy part that is supposed to be on the bottom of her foot was instead on the top. Her shoes were on backwards and . . .
My own fingernails were dirty. With eyeshadow, I think.
I don’t believe our God is one to play “gotcha” with us. But, man, I sure felt I was being taught a lesson.
Somehow, the hours before Mass have become “me” time, and that just doesn’t seem right.
Is God glorified when we put on nice clothes for Mass, when we wash and nicely arrange our hair, when we put on a bit of makeup? Sure. Is He glorified when I perfect the latest eyeshadow technique from Pinterest and spend long (futile!) hours with a round brush trying to get my hair to look like Kate Middleton’s?
I’ve never been a high maintenance kind of girl (at least not as far as the externals go, emotional maintenance is another story). So, I’ve always felt silly, vain, when I spend a lot of time on my appearance.
And yet, after having two kids and turning 30, I’m convinced it’s not a bad thing to have a nice two-hour stretch once a week to take care of myself: to take a long shower, to take whatever depilatory measures are necessary, to “do” my hair nicely, to play around with makeup. It’s not a bad thing. It might even be a good thing. It’s not just vanity. (But yes, I realize it is a luxury I am extremely blessed to have.)
At the same time, it doesn’t feel right to do it on Sunday morning.
So this is where I was going to write about how I’ve started making Saturday evening my “me” time: taking a nice long shower, putting my hair in Velcro rollers overnight, picking out my outfit, maybe doing my nails, so that I can get ready quickly in the morning.
But then real life intervened. We stayed out late at a lovely gathering of dear, old friends. Once we got home and got the girls to bed, my tired mommy bones weren’t up to anything more than going to sleep. Then this morning, my Saintly Husband let me sleep in, and I had about half an hour to get ready.
Somehow, though, like the way I turned out a bit better this week:
I’m not really sure what the moral of the story is here. Spend time with good friends whenever you can, and get as much sleep as you can, I suppose. All the same, next weekend I will try to implement my new Saturday night routine.
My hair looks better when I do the Velcro rollers anyway. 😉
As usual, I’m linking up with Fine Linen and Purple for What I Wore Sunday. Check there for lots of Sunday finery!
- What I Wore Sunday: Polka Dots, Argyle, and Albuterol (thisfelicitouslife.wordpress.com)
- Things I Learned Shopping for (Inexpensive) Jeans (thisfelicitouslife.wordpress.com)
- Pinspiration, Mother Daughter Style (thisfelicitouslife.wordpress.com)
- What I Wore Sunday, Chambray and Polka Dots (thisfelicitouslife.wordpress.com)
- What I Wore Sunday: The Polka Dot “It” Sweater (thisfelicitouslife.wordpress.com)