Author: Yoga Bynum

Fabulous Me: My Personal Style

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Lil Ma’s daycare teacher, Miss M, recently commented on an outfit I was wearing.

“That’s really cute,” she said. “I love the way you dress.”

I smiled and thanked her for the compliment. Miss M is in her early 20s. During the past six months, she’s had at least five hair styles and a variety of outfits.  I’m easily a decade older, and I remember going through a similar phase. Back then, getting dressed felt like an Olympic event. I’m happy, I thought, to be done with that.

That’s when I realized something. At long last, I love the way I dress too.

It’s taken me 30-something years, two kids and a slew of fashion faux pas to find a style that works for me. The bulk of the journey was spent adjusting my frame of mind. Here are the lessons I learned.

Know (and love) your body. I’ve got a small rack, a narrow waist and a backside that is one-two sizes bigger than everything else. I wasted years in college longing for a narrower hips, and from time to time, I pull out a Barely-B bra and wish it were a C. Most days, though, I get a peek of myself as I’m stepping out of the shower, and I think I look just fine.

Work the positive. Accepting my curves allowed me to focus on finding clothes that flatter. Bright color, sparkle (cool jewelry), and structure are my best friends.

Admire and adapt. Steering clear of trends entirely can result in a fashion rut. Pinterest, blogs and people watching help me keep my wardrobe up to date, but I have to be selective to make sure new pieces work with what’s in my closet. It gets easier over time.

Know your limits. There are some things that just will not work in my case. If overalls or parachute pants ever make a comeback, I guarantee you that I will not be wearing them.

I spent a lot of time thinking about the word I would use to describe my style. I went through all of the fashion buzzwords. Classic, chic, et cetera. None of these seemed right. My style is simply me, and I’m good with that.

Five Minutes for Chores

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My house is a wreck. This is nothing new, and I should be used to it by now. Barbie dolls, rubber ducks, and cloth blocks are scattered from room to room. The kitchen table is covered with mail, cups and empty plastic bags.  Puff cereal, stuck to Lil Ma’s clothes from her last meal, falls to the floor as she walks.

The neat freak in me will not let it go. Clutter makes me restless. Before I can settle down for the night, I walk through the house, trying to get it into a tolerable state. Sometimes, it takes longer than I’d like.

As I watched Mini Me push a pile of toys to one side of the floor, I had an epiphany. She is old enough for chores!

So, instead of running around like a mad person with a garbage bag tied to her waistband (yes, this is how I clean), I spent five minutes writing up a list of quick chores that my eight-year-old daughter can accomplish.

1. Picking up toys. It only takes my daughter a couple of minutes to pick up the toys from our family room floor and toss them into nearby bins. As soon as Lil Ma understands the phrase “clean up time,” I’m going to have her join in.

2. Emptying the trash. It’s up to Dad to get the garbage to the curb, but Mini Me can empty the bins in our bedrooms and bathrooms once a week.

3. Loading and unloading the dishwasher. We have a good system of placing a dish in the washer immediately after use, but that system falls apart when the washer is full of clean dishes. Mini Me knows better than Hubby on where things go, so there’s no reason she can’t lend a hand.

4. Sweeping/vacuuming. She’s tall enough now!

5. Putting away laundry. This is one of my least favorite chores, so I’m more than happy to pass this along.

6. Really cleaning her room.  For too long, I’ve let her get away with cramming papers and toys under her bed. She is old enough now to decide what stays and what goes.

Now that we have the list, Hubby and I have to be consistent and patient. I’ll admit, I occasionally have to stop myself from fussing or redoing her work. The surprise for me was that my daughter wanted extra responsibility. I think it makes her feel more grown up. And, with the exception of putting away laundry, she seems to like it. I’m not sure how long that part of it will last, but I’ll enjoy it while it does.

The Best Laid Plans

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I had my weekend all planned out. It was full of rather dull but necessary things that I had put on the back burner. Laundry. Dusting. Grocery shopping. Watering the plants.

Saturday started out as scheduled. I readied the girls and headed out for errands. Lil Ma made it through two stores with no semblance of a meltdown.

She saved it for when we got home. That, an unexpected work project, and a call from my dad, who had taken a tumble down a flight of stairs, closed out the rest of the day. Thankfully, my father is fine. He has a few minor aches and pains that will heal in a few days.

As I was lying in bed Saturday night, reviewing my list of undone chores, I decided that a lovely summer weekend should not be wasted on vacuuming.

“Let’s go to the zoo tomorrow,” I announced to hubby. He agreed.

I wanted to get there early so we could be on our way home by noon. Because none of us could get out of bed, we got there at 12:30, during the zenith of hot weather. Mini Me loved showing baby sis her favorite exhibits. The butterfly house was a highlight for them both.

A late lunch led to me not cooking dinner. An epiphany on how to improve my last-minute work project sent me back to my office. Mini Me kept me company by reading aloud excerpts of old Barbie magazines I saved from my childhood.

I still have laundry to do. Everything is dusty, and I forgot to buy ground turkey. The overly anxious me would be having a fit, but she seems to be on vacation. And that’s fine with me.

I was, however, able to squeeze in a few minutes to water the plants.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

A Good Mama

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When I was pregnant with my first daughter, my mother said something to me that I didn’t quite understand at the time.

“Don’t get all caught up in what makes a good mama or a bad mama. Just love your baby and have faith.”

I nodded and rubbed my itching belly.

After Mini Me was born, I spent a year in New Mom Haze. Diapers, breastfeeding, and sleepless nights defined my existence. I read articles that said my baby should be doing one thing or another by a certain age, and I blamed myself when she didn’t hit said milestone.

I compared myself to other moms, the ones who talked about using cloth diapers and had perfect babies who slept all night and walked at 8 months.

What a crock.

I wish I had known then what I know now. Sure, those babies slept all night, but they probably had to be in bed with their parents, which was often wet because the diapers leaked. Or, those parents ate Ramen Noodles out of paper cups because they couldn’t find time to wash dishes.

In other words, nobody’s perfect.

I see things more realistically the second time around. Lil Ma is a sweet girl. She giggles when you pretend to sneeze, and she is fascinated by socks. She also is quite stubborn. When Lil Ma doesn’t get her way, she cries at a glass-shattering frequency. I have yet to figure out how to deal with that.

And that’s ok. As my girls grow up, I will no doubt make mistakes. Instead of getting caught up in the “Good Mama, Bad Mama Drama,” I will continue to love them and have faith that I’m doing what’s best.