Yesterday I wore “the pants” to work. You know the ones. They fit but only if by ‘fit’ you mean they button and don’t bust at the seam while pulling them on. Each time I sit down I get to practice sucking in my muffin top. (Note: This doesn’t stop me from eating an almond croissant in order to get my day started right.) Each time I stand up I look to make sure the seams are all intact and I won’t have to pull out the long sweater I keep at my desk in case of an emergency.
Pants intact and a whole outfit that matches and is, as far as I can tell, free of milk, dirt, drool, applesauce or boogers. This is a mom win!
But now, it’s time to pump. I make the walk down the hall toting that familiar little black bag. Everyone knows what it is but no one really wants to talk about it. I try to avoid eye contact with the male engineers that are looming around as I punch in the code and slip into the mothers’ room. Twenty minutes later, after triple checking to ensure things are clasped, buttoned and straight and that I haven’t ruined my killer outfit with a milk stain, I exit the room. The second I start walking and someone glances my way, I am sure it’s because I forgot something! This thought literally crosses my mind, “did I forget to button my shirt?!” I look down to reassure myself that everything looks in order and I continue back to my desk.
My day ends, well the workday at least. On to daycare pick up. My son races towards me, the best part of my day! I am sure not to bend down to pick him up so we don’t have any mishaps in ‘the pants’ – after all I’ve made it the entire day in them. Then we get home to relieve my mom who has been with my daughter all day.
As soon as I possibly can I march upstairs to get myself out of ‘the pants’.
As I am doing so, I notice it….
It is small. Round. Very stuck.
A small cheerio is clinging to the back of my pants. Man, it’s really stuck on there….
Has that been there all day?! Is that why people were looking at me? Why would no one tell me?
I convince myself it just somehow gravitated to me when I walked in the door. There is no way it could have been there all day….right?
So, I pull off the cheerio and tuck ‘The Pants’ back into the closet for next time. Cheerio or not, I’ll be grateful we made it through another day and consider that little mark to be a badge of honor. I’m a mom.
