The last few times I have left the house, usually heading to the grocery store or Target, I have said to The Hubbs, "I am sooo What Not To Wear".

 I remember this phase after Little Man. Only this time, it doesn't feel like a phase (it probably didnt last time either). I have no idea what I wore before I was pregnant because I literally have NO CLOTHES. And anything I do have that looks halfway decent will probably get barfed on, so what is the point, really?

 My weekday morning routine consists of determining if the planets will align properly for me to take a shower. Actually, it has nothing to do with the planets and everything to do with Little Lady and if she feels so compelled to nap in her crib long enough for me to throw Little Man on front of the TV and take the world's quickest shower. Then I stand in front of my clothes deciding which t-shirt I should wear today. At this point, with The Chow Hound at it all. The. Time., anything besides a t-shirt gets all stretched out and disfigured from pulling it up and down all day, so again--what's the point??

 My weekend routine usually consists of piling both kids into the car to do the grocery shopping. This is usually not prefaced by any sort of shower, so I tend to look a hot mess. I try to pull of the baseball hat look that I see so many other moms rock and somehow I just look like a small boy with a baby strapped to him and a toddler in feetie jammies hanging off of him. I do take advantage of the Hubbs being home and take a luxurious shower where I do things like use conditioner and shave my legs. And then go see what fancy clothes are clean. By "fancy clothes", I mean "t-shirts that aren't gray".

 And it's not practical, or possible, to buy new clothes at this point. First, because trying on clothes while wearing an infant and wrangling a toddler sounds like some kind of X Games event. And second, anything I would buy wouldn't fit me in a month anyways (did I forget to mention that piece of awesomeness about breastfeeding?? I'm serious people). Oh yeah, and third--when money is tight, I can somehow buy whatever my kids need or want (well, not whatever they want, they are not spoiled...but just go with it), but I feel guilty buying myself a shirt that fits.

 And then I realize it doesn't matter what I wear because no one is looking at me. They are looking at my super cute kids. And even if they were looking at me, the baby carrier du jour is covering up my t-shirt anyways.