When the whole yoga pants phenomenon began, I wasn’t a mom quite yet and I didn’t really understand it. Granted, I’ve always been a fan of sweats but with workouts and other activities, I never stayed in my clothes for a crazy amount of time.
Some may say that yoga pants signal a lazy woman. I say it’s the opposite. She’s a woman giving everything she’s got to her family. It wasn’t until I became a mom of one and then of triplets that this happened…
A Day in the Life of yoga pants
I get up to feed the triplets around 3:30-4 am. It usually takes about 30-45 minutes, change bums and then put them back to bed. Sometimes I’m so tired that I fall back to sleep with ease, others it takes a few minutes.
With good intentions of getting up before the babies, my alarm goes off at 6:30, then 6:40 and 6:50 until I finally shut it off. It feels like only a few minutes pass before C jumps up on the bed and taps me. “Mommy, wake up. Mommy, time a wake up!” I roll over and check my phone, 7:45 am.
And like that, babies wake up, ready for the morning bottle. Cereal and Paw Patrol occupy C while I feed the babies and then change bums and clothes. They play for a little bit and I make some eggs and toast for me. The babies take a cat nap and I get C changed, after 9 am.
I straighten things up and play with C or we have a dance party, usually listening to the Chipmunk’s “Vacation” song. I’m pretty sure I’ve listened to it at least 200 times…
This is usually when I debate whether I’m actually going to work out or if I should shower. But it’s lunch time and so I make a sandwich for C and get bottles ready once again. Four hours pass faster than you think!
Making it through the afternoon
Feed babies, change bums. Make lunch for me. Babies settle down for a nap and I lie down with C for his own. This involves some small Youtube video, three stories, usually Goldilocks and the Three bears and me pretending to be asleep and then actually falling asleep.
So it’s around 1:30 or 2 pm and I’m still in what I wore to bed last night, either basketball shorts or yoga pants. I clean up the things that were left out. I finally go to the bathroom. ALONE.
And then I get a chance to write. You’re thinking that I could take two minutes to change my clothes, right? Well, writing is my jam. It’s that little outlet that challenges me and with the clock ticking down for the next feed and me to turn back into mommy again, I’m either furiously writing something or surfing the internet to figure something out to write about.
Bottle Prep Once More
An hour later, babies are starting to move and if I wait even one minute longer to prepare bottles, a choir of piercing screams will erupt and with only two arms, that creates quite the predicament. So I feed babies. Again. I change bums. Again.
At 4:30, I start to make dinner. If Max is home, he helps me with the kids so I can get it done a little faster. Otherwise, I’m going back and forth, putting in a binkie or putting a baby in the bouncer and then back to preparing food. Which C will either push away and won’t eat at all or will wait until it’s cold and then nibble at it. And then ask for every snack 30 minutes later.
We eat and then prepare babies for bath time, not every night because bathing three babies is exhausting. I usually have to decide whether I want to begin with the loud screamers or the chill one. It’s a furious bathe, lotion, diaper, and pajama battle. I hand them off to Max one at a time so he can quiet them down with a bottle.
We made it to night
We get everyone fed, C in his jammies and an episode of something on Disney Jr. One of us gets the job of negotiating bedtime terms while the other makes sure babies are comfortable and asleep. We get everyone to sleep and then it’s the big decision whether to fall down dead in bed or stay up and get some things done.
At this point, I’m still in my “pjs”, whether it’s yoga-type pants or basketball shorts. I know it seems incredible to some but it’s one of those things that you don’t completely understand until you’re in there.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that when you see that woman running a quick errand and she’s not quite put together, don’t judge. Life is hard enough as it is and you probably don’t know the whole story. Just like you can only see the top tip of an iceberg, there is so much lying underneath that you just don’t see.
Maybe she needed some medicine for a sick child. Or she hasn’t slept in days because she has a newborn(s).
The Husband Responsibility
Husbands, if you come home to see your wife in the same thing she wore when you left, give her a kiss. Tell her you love her and ask her how her day was. Not in the, “You look like crap. Did you get anything done today?” tone of voice. Try the, “You’ve probably cleaned the house twice even though it looks like it hasn’t been touched. Vent to me about the day.” Then listen.
Look around and take a few minutes to pick up toys or straighten a room. Marriage and family is all about sharing the responsibilities–there are no clear-cut duties, or there shouldn’t be anymore. Husband and wife are in it for the long haul and you might be surprised how such a simple act of service can help your comfy-clad wife.
Loving your babies takes time and is usually mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, there are enough ideas on Pinterest to make you want to pull your hair out but with short attention span of small children, you’d have to prepare about a 200 ideas in order to make it through one day and that’s not worth it.
So while you might think she’s lazy, she’s probably walked through a storm of life, loving others more than herself. Give the lady a break. This part of life doesn’t last forever and there will be some bright spots with nicer clothes, makeup and hair done. And if you want it to happen a little sooner, nothing helps like a date night!