• Bad Mom,  Beach Bits,  Bug,  Life Lessons

    Out with the Snots

    Today was “Special Treat Friday” so the Snot Princess and I (I being the Queen of Snots) went to our corner coffee shop for a muffin and latte and then down to the beach to enjoy our special treat in our special treat spot. I love “Special Treat Friday.” I think everybody should have “Special Treat Friday.” If you haven’t had a special treat today yet, I personally give you permission to go out and get yourself a special treat. Take back your specialness!!!

    Anyway, we both needed some fresh air and I thought it might be fun to mix some sand in with our snot. Sand and snot, mmmmm mmmmm. Sand and snot and muffin, even better.

    On the way back from the beach we crossed paths with a few neighbors who were also out and about enjoying the morning. “She looks like she needs a nap,” they said. Actually, they said “HE looks like HE needs a nap.” Everybody thinks Baby Bug is a boy when they first meet her. Whatever. I’m tired of trying to keep her dressed in pink from head to toe.

    I nodded, even though she just woke up from a nap less than half an hour ago. Don’t you hate it when that happens? I guess it’s okay today since we both look like crap because of our colds and the fact that I need a hair cut really really bad.

    It just reminds me of that day way back when I lived on the boardwalk (way way way before baby and Toby) and one morning I took my cup of coffee down to the bench on the boardwalk and sat there enjoying the sun and the surf in my pajamas. That’s the perks of living on the beach, right? You can go to the beach in your pajamas if you feel like it. Well, if you don’t mind people seeing you in your pajamas that is.

    Some random dude walked by and said, “Rough night last night, eh?” As if I was getting over a hangover or something. Or maybe he thought I slept on the bench all night. I don’t know. If I wasn’t feeling like crap before that, I did after his comment. Being the vain person I am, I started to feel self conscious about my blood shot eyes (allergies, I swear), my hole-y pajamas and the fact that maybe I don’t look as glamours as I thought I did with bed head. (I may use a hair product called “bed head” but that doesn’t mean I look good with bed head hair.)

    I went home wishing a zillion times I was more careful about my looks before I walk out of the house. Which is exactly the way I felt today. Except today when we were walking back up the hill I passed another mother who was also carrying her baby in a front-pack baby carrier. She was wearing baggy brown goucho sweats, a mis-matched gray t-shirt and a baseball cap over her ratty uncombed hair. I smiled at her as we passed. She’s one of us, I thought.

    It’s better to get out and look crappy than to never get out at all.

    p.s. remember these?