frumpy

Fighting Off the Frumpy

When I was twenty, my roommates and I decided to “woo” the boys in some nearby condos.   So we fixed ourselves up, walked across the street, and borrowed two eggs from them.  We reapplied our make-up when we took them brownies as a thank you, and then a few days later, we got ourselves gussied up again to return the eggs.  And we were always short on eggs . . .

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I even looked good in my pajamas. Now I just try to get out of my pajamas–

I look back at those pre-marriage pictures and what do I find?  My hair is always fixed.  I’ve always got on my make-up.   I’m wearing cute clothes.  Oh, and I’m quite a bit thinner.

My after marriage photos are a bit more dicey.  I must give myself a break because I was usually expecting a baby, wrestling a baby, or bouncing a baby who was on the verge of ruining yet another picture. My hair looks a bit more frazzled, my skirts look like they could house a circus, and my lipstick (or what’s left of it) is hanging on my dry lips for dear life.

Now that I’m out of baby stage, I’m trying a bit harder, but I still catch myself slipping.  Last Sunday, I went out on the back deck to read and enjoy the sun.  My blue comfy skirt was in the hamper so I pulled it out and put it on before going outside.  After laying out there for a few minutes and feeling uncomfortable in my fitted shirt, I came back in the house to put on a purple T-shirt.  Those clothes were great for several hours until I finally walked by a mirror.

This lax attitude doesn’t make sense. I love the captain way more than those silly boys across the street twenty years ago.  But why is it so easy to take him for granted?  I know that even forty year old men still like their wives to fix up.  Of course they’re not actually allowed to say this, but still: They think it.

Getting pretty is just one of those things I’m trying to juggle along with getting the kids out the door for school, sneaking in some exercise, loading the dishwasher, and fixing little Debi’s hair.  Sometimes the mascara happens and sometimes it doesn’t.  It’s harder getting dressed in the morning when no dress gives me the skinny waist I feel I deserve.  But that doesn’t mean I should throw in the towel.  The captain is much easier to please than I am and even a little effort can go a long way.

Sometimes the fixing up just happens late in the day.  I can’t tell you how many times our guitar teacher has shown up at 3:00 p.m. and I greet him with velcro curlers in my hair.  It’s highly embarrassing for both of us so you think I would learn.  (And you ask who still puts velcro curlers in their hair?  Apparently only women who are too lazy to round brush their hair, that’s who.)  Usually, I get the curlers out before the captain comes home, but then again, it all depends on how often I walk by a mirror.

But I’ve been thinking this needs to change and even made it top priority.  I was surprisingly how hard it was that first day with all sorts of interruptions, but I just kept curling my hair as my cellphone kept ringing. I’m at an age where I need the primer, the base, the eye cover, all of it, and it’s a real pain to apply it all.  But it’s going on my face, girls, and the Mac makeup is worth every penny.

I can’t help but recognize that I do feel better–all three days that I’ve been on my little spruce up program.  Speaking of really keeping the captain happy–we had a general authority (Mormon church leader) come and speak to us on Wednesday night.  His leaders told him he needed to kiss his wife ten times a day.  His wife piped in and said, “So far you’ve only kissed me four times today.” We all laughed when he looked at the clock and he realized he had only had a couple of hours to get his kisses in with his wife.

I’ve been giving the captain his ten kisses everyday, and that spices things up more than you might think.  I highly recommend it.  Happy Valentine’s Captain.  Love you to pieces.

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