My Cool Meter

Since becoming a mom, my points on the cool-o-meter have significantly plummeted (and here I thought they didn't have much room to fall...).  Last Tuesday perfectly illustrates this.
A few weeks ago, my students started a tosh.o trend of "High Fashion Tuesdays."  They come to school dressed to impress.  I decided to join them last week. 
I had plans.  Big plans.  My plans included a dress, stilettos, an updo, and fancy accessories.  I must've temporarily forgotten what my mornings usually consist of - me, trying to get ready while Emerson is either tugging at my clothes crying to be held or making a mad dash for the steps so she can climb them.  I managed to get dressed and put on the shoes - the rest dropped down the priority list.

Then, Jesse looked at me.  He said, "I don't think I've seen you dress up like that in a long time."  Ouch.

Then, Emerson spits up a little and it lands on my dress.  I wipe it off with a Kleenex, and think, eh, good enough.  ... because high fashion models wear baby spit up on their clothes, right?

Finally, it's time to leave and as I head out the door, carrying my 20+ lb baby in her 20+ lb carseat, while wearing my stilettos, I say silent prayers that I don't break a leg.  And I come close.

This is just one example - one little morning of my many days and nights - that shows how "uncool" - or, in this case, how unfashionable - motherhood has made me.  Add to that the number of weekends I spend falling asleep on the couch by 9 pm and the number of statuses, tweets, blogs and pictures that I post about Emerson and being a mommy and all that cuddly stuff, and  yeah, I'm pretty much the uncoolest person I know.

But I'm okay with it.  I've never really been too worried about being cool anyway. :)