Despite what some may think, I’m not a weirdo that holes away in a basement selling Avon & listening to Christmas music in August.
Okay, scratch that. I totally listen to Christmas music in August.
I have a job that I love as it challenges me & puts me in front of clients on the daily. Which is wonderful, because I love people. But having to look my best every day? oh, do I often fail. I was most worried before returning to work after my son – I had 40 extra pounds on my frame & no clothes that fit. I was losing hair like a husky & had this weird thing going on where my feet sweat a lot. (new motherhood = totally glamorous) But after three months of maternity leave, we still had a mortgage to be paid, so I bought a few new pairs of slacks, slipped my stinky feet back into my pumps, & tried desperately to still feel confident & pretty in my job.
I realized quickly that the weight would take awhile to melt off. But I could brighten my face up in just a few minutes with my old trusty friends, the blush stick & mascara wand. So I covered the dark circles under my eyes that appeared sometime during the 3am feeding & dusted a little bronzer across my cheeks to help me look among the living. I am not a huge make-up enthusiast, but surely, I entered my new stage of life as a working mother with a little more confidence each day until I was comfortable with my clients once more.
CoverGirl & BlogHer wanted to make sure I was staying on top of my game almost two years into the gig of being a working momma, so they sent me the new CoverGirl Lash Perfection mascara to try out in a brown-black shade.
Oh, my. It is very pretty on. I never really believed that mascara could “lengthen” lashes until this one & I didn’t even have to dig out a toothpick to take out clumps! (kidding! I’m too clumsy to put sharp objects near my eyes.) It held up beautifully, even though the tears of a therapy session. Also, this may have been the first mascara I have tried where I didn’t look like a raccoon by 5pm. Thank you, Lash Perfection, for not smudging under my eyes. Love you, mean it!




A little over a year ago, I wrote out
When my son was 13 weeks old, I slipped back into a black pencil skirt & three-inch stilettos to take my place in the corporate world once more. Every day for the next year, I tearfully kissed my little boy goodbye & bitterly plowed through paperwork & client calls. I hated being a working mother. I was wracked with jealousy over my stay-at-home-mom friends when they held play dates & lunches. I struggled with finding balance between work, marriage, motherhood, home, & myself. News articles hounded home that the children of working mothers were fatter, sicker, & worse off than children of mothers who stayed home. & it didn’t matter if Charlie Sheen himself wrote the study, I believed that I was failing my child by working.


