One Bad Mamajama

Sometimes there is a deep, dark truth that can only be set free if I speak it out loud.

No matter how happy my marriage, no matter how strong my sense of self, I want to be seen as a sexually viable woman. I want to be seen as a Woman. And for me that includes being seen as a sexual creature.

Nothing makes me feel more invisible than being a Mother.  The thing that makes me the most proud, that defines me in many respects, it also makes me feel like no one can see me at all.

I don’t want to be hit on by everyone I walk by. I just want to be a player in the game. That silent game that only the very drunk or the very crass admit to playing. If s/he was  the last wo/man on earth would I or wouldn’t I? I am not the only person that does that, right? It is human. Or so I tell myself so I don’t feel like a dirtball while I quietly eyeball the creeps at the gas station and everyone else I walk by.

There is only one man. If you rule out children and men old enough to be my  father, there’s just one man that can speak his mind without bruising my ego. Because I never factored in to his silent game of would I or wouldn’t I?

My brother.

I hope you have a brother. If you get a Mom haircut only your brother can tell you as much and live to see another day.

I am facing my fears today.

I have a mom haircut. I am saying it out loud before someone else has the chance (aside from my brother, of course, who never fails to shoot it to me straight.)

So there. I have Mom hair. P.S. – I have two kids and I probably have puke on my shirt, too. And I own it. I might even attempt to work it. Because it doesn’t make a damn bit of sense that being a mother takes me out of the game. You’re all aware of what I did to end up a parent in the first place, right?

Motherhood really shouldn’t make you un-sexy.  I kind of think keeping humans alive, making three meals a day, having clean underwear on and keeping a smile on my face makes me one bad motherfucker.  And what’s hotter than a bad motherfucker?  (I realize that is a weird choice of words there, but that’s how I feel. Like the Samuel L Jackson of motherhood.)

Last night Emily and I had “the talk.” She was fed up with the vague explanation of part of a woman’s body and part of a man’s body joining together and magically making a baby. So, I asked her. “Do you want me to tell you exactly what happens? Because I will. I will always be honest with you.”

I explained it. Pretty simply. She knew where a baby came from. She damn near saw Lucy being born so it didn’t take a lot of explaining to get the rest of it figured it out. “Do you have any questions? That’s pretty much how babies are made, Em.”

She was quiet for a bit. “But I don’t understand. You and dad had a baby and you don’t ever do that?” I laughed.

“Well, not in front of you.” She just shook her head and smiled, embarrassed .

Last night I told my seven year old that I do the deed. And today I thought I’d tell the rest of you. Me and my Mom hair? We totally have this shit going ON. It’s gonna take more than Mom hair and a nursing bra to knock me out of the game. Justin Timberlake brought sexy back. Tyler Perry told us how Stella got her groove back. Me? Shit, girl, I ain’t never lost it.  It’s gonna take more than mom hair to knock me down.

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19 responses to “One Bad Mamajama

  1. Just wanted to chime in that I have a relationship with my brother who tells me straight up too. Love him.

  2. Pingback: Hey you guys!!! | Excitement on the side

  3. I do fist pumps whenever I read your blog. Love it. You’re doing plankaday too so I think that cancels out any mom hair.

  4. After my first baby was born, my hair started falling out. Not all of it, but it just looked like crap. So I ended up cutting it really short. I was still the same person – freakin’ tired LOL.

    People are who they are. And mom hair or no mom hair, you are looking pretty damn hot to me. Nice to meet you!

    • Nice to meet you! Mine is falling out in fistfuls, still, too. It is a tough gig, this parenting. Thanks for popping by. You’re not looking so bad yourself. ;)

  5. Hi honey, Le Clown directed me here. I’m 46 and I now have three very old children (20, 17 and 12). I had a traumatic mom haircut (and gigantic, ugly nursing bra!) when I was at your stage of the game and I am now in mom-hair recovery. I cannot cut my hair off. It is too important to my sexiness and sense of self at this advanced age. However, you and your mom haircut, wow! You wear it well. You don’t have to do really anything to look sexy, you could wear a mullett and you’d look sexy. So enjoy it, you can have long hair again soon. You look great!

  6. I shall now only refer to you as Bad Motherfucker.

    xoxo
    S.

  7. I found this post interesting because after having #3 I chopped all of my STUPIDLY LONG HAIR off. I wanted very short because I didn’t want to deal with the tangles & shedding yet again or the issues in the winter with static & a small baby. My aunt was afraid to cut it really short, so I ended up with a ‘do similar to what you have. But I hated it. It was momish & “practical”…so I took the electric clippers to it one afternoon. When I was a baby & my hair was short, it stuck out in all weird directions & didn’t lay flat until it was long. Apparently it still does that because my hair is everywhere & I love it! It’s short, like a boy’s, punky & fresh. It does still kinda feel like a wig or a hat since I’m not used to it yet, but I really like it short. (At first I thought I might look older/more mature with shorter hair…which is what I wanted because I look like a teenager with three kids, & I’m treated like a teenager with three kids. However, I don’t think it made me look older…maybe a little more fun…I dunno.) And like someone already suggested, Anne Hathaway’s short hair looks AMAZING!

    • Punky & fresh, huh? I will admit, in between lamenting how short my hair is I have thought “maybe I should go even shorter?” Thanks for stopping by!

  8. I like your mom cut! As Tyra would say, it’s fiieerrrce.

    Yes. TYRA.

  9. I’ve been thinking about this *a lot* lately. In 22 months I’ll be 40. (Not that I’m counting. I’m not. Srsly. Ok, maybe a little.) I’m staring my own sexual irrelevancy dead in the face. I tried to explain my anxiety to my husband, but he doesn’t understand at all. Age has nothing to do with a man’s sexual relevancy, all the aspects for a man are (mostly) within his control, the calender has nothing to do with it. In fact, as I age, I find my taste in men ages right along with me. Given a choice between the 21 year old muscle bound roid rage jock at the gym and the square chested, strong jawed, salt and peppered 40something? Pass the 40something. Yummy.

    “What about MILFs?”, my husband asks, as proof that older women retain their potency. Sorry but, MILF is punch line. Cougars are a cultural joke.

    Le Sigh. I’m not ready to bow out of the game yet. I have been completely faithful to my husband of fifteen years and have no desire to step outside of our marriage. But someone PLEASE for the LOVE OF GOD shoot an “I’d tap that” look my way.

  10. If you have “mom hair”, so do Keira Knightly (a Scott fav), Cameron Diaz, Anne Hathaway (seen her lately?), and host of other sexy starlets who are too f-ing young for me to remember their names, and a couple of the top models making millions today. So no worries — you’re still in the game, and it’s got nothing to do with your hair. Men are dumb, and your brother is talking out of the hat he wears to cover his bald spot…bald men are sexy too, by the way. :-)

Gimme some love!! Please?

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