my strut

February 3, 2008

I couldn’t wait for bug for many reasons on of which was my clothes. Or, more specifically, my body and my movement in my clothes. I am ecologically minded but I my dress is nowhere near a cereal, especially granola. I love flowy sleeves and tailored shoulders and the flirtatious tip of the high heel that just barely peeks out from under the perfectly cascading pant leg. I swoon over shoes and have always prided myself on my ability to put in a full day at work followed by post-work cocktails and never ever sacrifice my foot cuteness.

So why then, after birth, do I continue to wear the pit-stained, stretched-out, broken shirts and the flat-soled comfy shoes that I wore when my belly was swollen and my feet exhausted?

I am afraid. I am afraid I will fall while carrying a wee babe. Like I did this time. And this time. And many other instances that I didn’t write about. And, I can’t wear a lot of my cutie pie tops because of my giant, breastfeeding boobs.

I wore heels a few weeks ago to an auction at the museum I work at and was very careful to balance my kid, my glass of wine and myself. It didn’t give me the confidence I had hoped it would. But then, last night, at yet another art auction, I slipped into my red, floor-length silk skirt a revealing, tight shirt and my pointy, high heels. I walked fearlessly and after six hours in these shoes, I went dancing. I danced. I swayed my hips and really danced all for me for the first time in many many months. I felt sexy in a way that was completely unrelated to the sexiness of being a mom.

It is for sure a different experience–having to wear a relatively unsupportive bra that allows me to feed my girl and just my overall awareness of face planting that is probably at the level that most normal people are at without carrying a six-week old babe. And I only danced for like an hour but I treasured my fluid cadence, the soul thumping rhythm of the music, the seductive pulse of the room.

And bug? She already understands the high importance of socializing and dancing. She was right there with me sleeping peacefully as her mama rediscovered her strut.

dig is a mama, dig opines

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hello and welcome

I’m Nici (pronounced like Nikki) and I live in western Montana where I raise kids, vegetables and the roof.

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