Here's the point. I don't consider myself a shallow, selfish person. Sure, I like to look nice when I go out, but I spend most of my days in sweats, with no makeup. I like nice things, but I'm not worried about having more/better than anyone else. I've never really understood women who didn't take time to take care of their hair and skin, or wear attractive clothes. I don't think there's anything wrong with them, I just don't get it. I can be as sloppy and unkempt at home as the next person, but if I'm going out in public, I'm not going to wear flip-flops or sandals with unpolished toes and dry, cracked heels. (That's partly vanity and partly my contribution to society because there is nothing more unappealing on a woman than crusty feet and skanky toenails.) I don't have to wear makeup to the grocery store or to my girlfriend's house for a short chat, but I will shower, put on makeup and style my hair if I'm invited to any dinner, happy hour, or social occasion.
So, I'm sure you can understand my shock and dismay when the thought "Oh jeez, I am really shallow," no longer a distant whisper, came blaring into my stream of consciousness. It happened just a while ago, while I was painting mine and the girls' toenails. I had just finished showering and moisturizing my face with new Sephora samples and decided to sit and do my nails. I already cleaned the living room, did three loads of laundry, jogged on the treadmill and did a few strength exercises and felt I deserved a so-burgundy-they-are-black toenails, it hit me. I felt great. This is not an abnormal thing, to be sure, but you have to understand that I've been super down lately. I've even been wondering if, perhaps, I was having late-onset post-partum depression. It's not like I'm locking myself in the bathroom, crying all day or anything, but if someone would take my kids for a day, I might just spend the entire time in bed, wallowing in my own misery. The fact that there is absolutely not one iota of misery to be found in my life proves that it must be some sort of depression. It's not my first go-round with depression. I started taking Lexapro when I had panic attacks over having to return to work after having Avery. So I've upped the Lexapro recently, to no avail. I've read self-help books. I joined a website about finding your spiritual self. I ordered books on meditation and daily "self-esteem boosters." Nothing has worked. The holidays are over and a huge negative influence in my life has recently been virtually eliminated.
Anyway, the question is not why I've been so down lately, but why did I suddently become so "up" today? I asked myself that very question. I said to myself, "Self, why am I happy now when I haven't been able to get happy in more than a month?" Myself responded with, "Because you are pampering yourself and making yourself pretty." Yikes. Can I honestly say that putting a ritzy moisturizer on my face and painting my toes is better than hugs and kisses from my precious babies? I wouldn't trade any of those hugs and kisses for, say, the new youth cream from Bliss. I WOULD NOT!!! No, it's not that it makes me happier, but it does give me a different boost. It's a selfish happy. The feeling that you get when you know you look good and that, in turn, makes you feel good. The boost you get when you've done something only for your own happiness or pleasure. It's not a dire need and it doesn't benefit anyone but you. A lot of people frown on this type of indulgence. But I have decided that I think it's necessary. Maybe not for everyone, but obviously, it is for me.
Since acceptance was my New Year's Resolution, I'm just going to accept that I'm a bit shallow at times. And selfish. I will accept that, in order to be fully happy and cheerful, I'm going to need a little pick-me-up in the form of beauty supplies every once in a while. I think it will make me a better wife and mother in the long run. If you're happy with yourself, after all, you can be happy anywhere, right?
Oh yeah, and look at this:
I just got this in the mail from Sephora. I bought something online just so I could get this Super Skin Care Sample pack...there are like, 30 samples of skin care junk. I'm in Heaven.
Yeah, just a little shallow.