Mom Makeover: The Road from Ho-Hum to Hawt

One of the best pieces of parenting advice I got from my mother involved mascara.

I've shared my opinions on mom jeans, Keds, denim jumpers and the like. I don't believe that being a mother is license to be a frump. We all take a few steps away from our dry clean only wardrobe once we have children, but it's not necessary to trade in fab for frump. Yet all too often, it happens. Like back fat. It just creeps up on you before you realize that everything in your closet has an elastic waistband. When we stop putting ourselves first, we plummet to stretchy pant hell.

I'm guilty as charged. To a certain extent.

I recently embarked on a journey with a few other women to do a Mom Makeover. Nothing extreme to walk the catwalk or sport a tiara. Just a simple makeover that's realistic for a mother who spends her time in car pool, at the park, or on a date. I was hoping to transform a couple moms who could go from "Park to Party" in a flash.

With the help of Jill, Joanna, Pam, and Amanda, we pulled it off for our first contestant on Park to Partay!

Meet Liz.

36-year old mother of a three-year old daughter and 5-month old infant son. Liz is tired. She's been feeling frumpy and is scrounging up the time and energy to hit the gym again. Her own sister in law even threatened to turn her over to What Not to Wear. Ouch! Liz knows there's a sprinkle of her former self sparkling in there somewhere.

We were there to help Liz regain her shimmer so she can put some shimmy back in her step.

Meet our makeover team.

Jill, owner of hairdos. Before Jill pulled out her scissors she talked to Liz to get a sense of her style, preferences, and lifestyle. Clearly Jill took the time to know the client first instead of treating her head as a canvas with license to chop. We've all been in a salon seat like that, right? Jill gave Liz a kicky little cut and even gave her options to wear her hair up or down. Options are good. Did I mention that Liz donated a whopping 11 inches of her mane to Locks of Love? I know how freeing it is to cut off all that hair. The key thing about the magic that Jill worked is that she kept Liz's hair maintenance free. After all, what mom wants to deal with a high maintenance hair style that involves multiple gooey products and various electrical devices? It's a wash and go cut that will grow out lovely, meaning Liz can look good while not swapping out style for sleep.

Joanna, makeup artist and owner of Look at Me Makeup. And I don't use the word artist lightly. Every girl dreams of the make up case Joanna was toting. Oh, the creams and powders and shadows and blushes and liners! Some of her go-to products to make us moms look more awake than we feel: mascara, concealer, blush, lip gloss, moisturizer! Also, maintain those brows, ladies. Like Jill, Joanna focused on making Liz's makeup regimen fast and easy. Wearing makeup doesn't have to be a 30-minute ordeal that requires paint brushes and spackling. I don't even own blush and I've never put a drop of foundation on my face in my life, yet I think I don't look half bad. Joanna gave Liz makeup tips that fit her lifestyle and schedule. The beauty is that she also gave Liz tips on how to turn the makeup amp up to 11 for date night. Va va va voom! Again, options are good.

Pam, owner of Dress. and fashionista extraordinaire. Pam is that rare blend of fashion and frugal. Pam's shop perches at the intersection of Quality Road, Style Boulevard, and Affordability Avenue. Dress. is a lovely little boutique that features consigned and new designer clothes, shoes, and handbags. And boy are the brands in there mouth watering! Pam, having the honor of being my most fashionable friend (who is blessed with lean long legs and a tiny waist...damn her), not only sells the clothes, she helps with personal styling too. She gave Liz so many fantastic options that it was nearly impossible to make a choice. Sometimes options aren't so good. ;-) The ticket was to find Liz an outfit that's comfortable, versatile, fun, and easy. Do you see a trend here? Perhaps the best testimonial is that I left Dress. with the most perfect little black dress, and our photographer bought three! Ooh la la.

Amanda of Amanda Olson Photography. She's one helluva talented photographer whom I'm going to hire to take my headshot for my book jacket one day. Amanda captured not only the activities of the day, but the spirit as well. Though she and I were in the same room, her eyes saw things mine did not. She really has a storytelling gift. Amanda's photos were simply glorious. There's nothing phony or diva about her, but she is a true artist. You have no idea how hard it was to select photos for this post. Every single shot rocked. I kid you not. I'd pepper my walls with Amanda's photos and spent a good hour just perusing her gallery on her site. Poor Amanda will now have to chase my two sons and a pesky dog to capture some family shots this fall. You can see more photos from our day here.

So the key is this: style and comfort are not mutually exclusive. We owe it to ourselves to put our best face on and our best foot forward. Clad in a touch of mascara and some swoon worthy shoes.

Motherhood is hot. Bring it.

Want vs. Need

Bird's homework yesterday was to make a list of five things he Wants and five things he Needs. Then we had to work together to determine the price of one item he covets, find out where to get it, and figure out how he could earn the money to buy it. We went through the exercises, but the outcome is realistically never gonna happen. Can a six-year old really earn 300 bucks to buy himself a freaking gaming system? Pretty damn unlikely in this house. I can't speak to what grandparents might succumb to.

Bird's homework got me thinking about how we're teaching our sons the difference between wanting and needing. There's simultaneously a fine line yet a jagged abyss between the two. It's clear that I'm not setting a very good example. I pine for the perfect pair of black boots and whine about how I nnnneeeeeeeeeddddd them. Of course I know and Mac Daddy knows I don't need them. Mac Daddy knows me well enough to know that all I really need is a slick cool slap of reality once in a while. That, and ice cream.

Have a look at Bird's list. You'll note that it ain't gonna win him any points on the pageant circuit. Looks like I'll have to return all the bow ties and black tap shoes I've been hoarding in his closet.


Need (He's clearly one to harp on the obvious.)
Water
Food
Clothes
House
Mom and Dad (I'm amazed we made this list, with me getting top billing even!)
Car (This is because we live in Raleigh, the world's most unwalkable city.)
Air

Want (Hmmm...this list harkens to the letter Bird wrote to Santa.)
Xbox
Nerf gun
TV in my room (Nevah!)
Blendy Pens
Legos
Wii games
Ds games

The pageant folks might be impressed with the inclusion of artsy Blendy Pens (despite the As Seen on TV pock mark that blemishes this choice) or the future architect potential of LEGO, but the rest of the stuff is mindless clutter, literally and figuratively. I will say this: Bird is a kid who knows what he wants.

But what he needs is an attitude adjustment. As for me and those perfect black boots, I realize I don't need them. But I really really really really really want them. In a size 6. You know, just in case anyone is feeling particularly generous.

Maybe Bird and I can get a BOGO deal on that attitude adjustment.

Of Flowers and Ball Pits

Today I have many a musing rolling around in my summer weary, heat imploded head. Add to that air full of smoke and God knows what other particles thanks to wildfires 200 miles away from here, and you can imagine my lowly brain cell capacity today.

First things first, I owe a big public THANK YOU to my dear mom, a continent away for several months, who wept when she read my recent Obama post. She's in Germany toiling with the ex-pats at Democrats Abroad to ensure Barack Obama is our next President. I got lovely purple (my favorite color) flowers from her yesterday with a card that read "Your article after Obama's speech made me cry. I am so proud of you. I love you. Mom" Now that's way better than a comment any day (not that you should stop the commenting because you know what crack it is for all bloggers). Right back at ya, Mom!

Now I must relay a funny story about a fellow mom and friend. We'll call her Poison Pen. I went to her house last night for book club (We read Rockabye by Rebecca Wolfe of Girl's Gone Child.). So Ms. Poison Pen answers the door in a sling. Now I would expect to greeted by a Singapore Sling, but not the medical variety. Here we were all gushing around her, worried she had tried some crazy daredevil adventure from her youth. Skateboarding. Windsurfing. Ripsticking. Roller blading. Mountain biking. Surfing. Belly dancing. Tantric sex. Pole dancing.

Nope, turns out Poison Pen fell off the balance beam. In a Mommy & Me class with her 2-year old. Now it's generally not nice to laugh at other people's mishaps, though Mac Daddy believes the only reason to watch figure skating is for the falls. And I must admit, it does make it way more fun. But get this, she not only fell off the balance beam, she fell into the ball pit. I'm talkin' a massive ball pit that's like 9 feet deep. Imagine the worried looks she got from other parents who were trying their darndest not to bust a gut laughing and secretly thankful it wasn't they who fell. I bet there was a lot of snickering going on. At least Poison Pen provided great dinner table conversation fodder that night. It turns out she tore some thumb ligaments and needed hand surgery. Geesh. Yeah, I feel bad for her and all, but don't tell me that's not freaking funny stuff. The story wouldn't even of have been blog worthy were it not for the ball pit.

Now if you haven't checked out In the Motherhood, you're missing out. Lots of I-want-to-look-away moments a la Curb Your Enthusiasm. Funny mom moments that I bet you can all relate to...and even top. Chelsea Handler, Jenny McCarthy, and Leah Rimini (The nutty Scientologists apparently tolerate humor.)are stellar in that made-for-the-web way. Chelsea especially. I'm so going to get her new book.

And lastly, I am ACHING for a new pair of shoes. It's been eons since I've treated myself. DSW is sending me love letters, begging me not to break up, enticing me back. So what if Father's Day is coming up? Mama needs some shoes! And a new bag while I'm at it since Deal is fully potty trained, opening up a whole host of new handbag options! I have my eye on these impossibly impractical, playground unfriendly jazzy little sparklers. Maybe daddy needs a date night for Father's Day with a hot MILF on his arm.

Stay tuned for tomorrow's 5:00 Fridays!

Happy Feet

It's no secret that I love shoes. I even dream about them. Seriously, one of my frequent dreams is that I open up my extraordinarily large, organized closet to find umpteen boxes of new shoes. Stacked high in clear Rubbermaid boxes and labeled with my new label maker. I delight in my options and try on everything in a frenzy to decide what to wear. It sucks waking up realizing that I'll be donning flip flops or cowboy boots...again.

I equally love shoes for Bird and Deal, even though they want to wear sneakers everyday. Apparently Mac Daddy told them those are the "fast" shoes so anything else I buy doesn't cut the mustard. We will be flying with the kids this summer so sneakers are not an option for expediting an already lengthy security regimen. With my luck, the boys will be fiddling with the laces, creating knots that Salvatore Sarno couldn't untie. Bird is particularly adept at screwing up his laces since he's in the I-want-to-tie-my-own-damn-shoes mode.

In walk Toms Shoes.

These canvas slip ons are as cool as Vans of yore but serve a higher purpose. For every pair you buy, Toms' donates a pair to a child in need. That means that by one simple act of buying shoes (!) that you'd buy anyway, you are doing a good deed. Is there any better motivation to shop?! That's a justification even I haven't used yet. Trying to ignite the economy one Amex charge at a time is a ploy that's not working on Mac Daddy, but even he can't argue with Toms.

The shoes are way cool in a hunky surfer kind of way. The boys can put them on themselves, a real time saver in the security jungle. Based on available sizes, only Deal can sport the Toms. Bird will undoubtedly get jealous, meaning that I'll be shooting off a note to Blake Mycoskie asking him to stock larger sizes. And don't think for a second that I won't be ordering a pair for myself too.

Note that this, like my other unsolicited endorsements and opinions, are unpaid. I'm simply sharing the wealth of knowledge that I garner from shoe surfing.

His Glass Slippers

"I want to wear my Polliwalks EVERY SINGLE DAY! WAAAAAHHHH WAAAAHHHHH WAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!" -Deal

A ringing endorsement from Deal, who doesn't seem to care that his frog Polliwalks will be a tish cold in 40 degree temps. Even with socks (Gasp!). He has given in (FINALLY) and agreed to wear them indoors. All the time. Even to bed. It's pretty sandy in those sheets.

I am firmly against the socks and sandals look but make amends for Polliwalks (except on 40 degree days). The granola fools who wore itchy wool socks from the venerable L.L. Bean and Tevas in college were all, "Hey man, relax. Save the manatee. Pass the bong, dude. I'm soooo fucked up. Dylan is like, so cool. He totally gets me. And, hey you! Yeah, YOU! Get your hands off my BMW!" Conformity and Hypocrisy at their best.

At least Deal's socks are not black, pulled up to his calves with sock garters steadfastly in place, and scrawny chicken hair legs bowleggedly walking around like the geezer getting off the Holland America tour bus in Tampa. The flame will indeed be extinguished if Mac Daddy sports that get up in his old age. I fully plan on embarrassing my children, but not through how I dress.

http://polliwalks.com/

Polliwalks Rock!

Bird was given a chance to try out some fabulous new shoes from the clever folks at Polliwalks. I'm talking sizzlin' cool shoes. Bird slid them on as soon he ripped open the package and practically hasn't taken them off since. This is the kid who takes off his shoes and lines them up in the mud room before the door behind him is even closed. He doesn't see the need for shoes at all, which makes me wonder who his real mother is. Bird feels like a million bucks in his Polliwalks. And boy, you oughta see a four-year old strut his stuff. He picked the Gator because of the menacing teeth, so I suppose that ups the coolness factor (and his testosterone level).

The cool thing about Polliwalks is how freakin' fun they are. There are four different animal styles to choose from, Gator, Ladybug, Frog, and Duck, with more in the works. The design is adorable, the colors tasty, and the price is so great that there's no way Mac Daddy can bitch about how much I spend on shoes (wait a sec, he only bitches about how much I spend on my shoes). The coolest thing on the Polliwalks is the tread. Each animal footprint leaves a different impression.

Stomp in puddles!
Sashay through the sand!
Squish in the mud!
Strut all over the wet cement in front of the neighbor's house!

Leaving a trail of where you've been has never been so fun. I, the neatnik OCD mom that I am, even let, no, ENCOURAGED, Bird to trail through the mud yesterday. Just so we could see the Gator prints. We were cracking up at the sheer novelty of it. The best thing is how easy is was to clean up the shoes. Some water, a spritz only, and they're good as new (well, granted they are new). Bird ran downstairs this morning and put on his Polliwalks rightaway and couldn't wait to show them off to the kids at school. I have a feeling we'll be the proud owners of a shoe menagerie this summer. You too can get them at http://polliwalks.com/.

Don't think for a minute that these are Mock Crocs. Banish the thought. Polliwalks are a whole different animal (pun fully intended). I succumbed to the Crocs last year but never found them to be anything more than a utility, easy on, easy off, easy to clean. Polliwalks are all those things and cute to boot. Form, function, and fashion are not mutually exclusive in my world.

Kids shoes should promote a life of being footloose and fancy free. We'd all have a bit more whimsy in our world and spring in our instep if we sported Ladybugs on our tootsies too.

Needless to say, I hopped online and ordered Deal a pair of the Frog Polliwalks. He's gonna be one hoppy little boy.