Ever since you veered onto the jagged, cross-country course of motherhood, chances are that "working out" has been replaced by working up the patience to parent most days. If you feel compelled to justify why you're dressed for the Olympic Trials despite zero intent to exercise (in the conventional sense)--then here's a short list of reasons to justify why athletic wear is your every-day ensemble:
Because yoga pants are more flattering than a HAZMAT suit. For moms of young children, Blood, Sweat, and Tears are like the mild-mannered cousins in a dysfunctional family of bodily fluids that more prominently features Puke, Pee, Food, Snot, and Shit. You could suit up in a trashbag and welder's helmet, but yoga pants are decidedly more slimming and thus infinitely valuable in the daily quest to maintain your dignity while neck-deep in the putrid slop of parenting.
Because you do your own stunts. When your day includes (but is not limited to) lying face-down in the driveway to retrieve a sippy cup from behind your rear-left tire, tunneling between the wall and the couch to rescue a lost Nerf arrow, and scaling the gutters in search of a stomp rocket gone AWOL somewhere on the roof--what's a mom to wear? While the sequinned unitard of an old-timey circus performer might seem like the obvious choice, I'm sure our friends at Old Navy Active have a more updated offering to suit the demands of your acrobatic lifestyle.
Because the elements are unforgiving. When a relentless game of tag on the steaming July playground has you sweating from the very marrow of your bones, the space-age technology of those arid, flexible fabrics will wick away your worries and the comfort of stretch-cottons will spring back into shape upon washing. Wearing that puddle your kid can't help stomping in is much less excruciating in quick-dry capris than in soggy jeans, wilted khakis, or (God-forbid) professional attire.
Because you're a grown-ass woman. You no longer fear banishment from the popular table for wearing your gym clothes to the lunch room. You've had milk shoot out of your upstairs, live beings come out of your downstairs, and a mercurial flow of joy, panic, fury, and worry intermittently overloading every circuit in between since Day 1 in the noble occupation of "Mom". Dress for the job you have and make no apologies. No longer giving a shit is not the same as giving up. Why run the marathon of motherhood in a cocktail dress when you can dress for success in the context of the moment?
So you may not be an athlete--but kids are still a contact sport. So be proud. Be comfortable. And be confident in the championship mom-wear of your choice.
Because yoga pants are more flattering than a HAZMAT suit. For moms of young children, Blood, Sweat, and Tears are like the mild-mannered cousins in a dysfunctional family of bodily fluids that more prominently features Puke, Pee, Food, Snot, and Shit. You could suit up in a trashbag and welder's helmet, but yoga pants are decidedly more slimming and thus infinitely valuable in the daily quest to maintain your dignity while neck-deep in the putrid slop of parenting.
Because you do your own stunts. When your day includes (but is not limited to) lying face-down in the driveway to retrieve a sippy cup from behind your rear-left tire, tunneling between the wall and the couch to rescue a lost Nerf arrow, and scaling the gutters in search of a stomp rocket gone AWOL somewhere on the roof--what's a mom to wear? While the sequinned unitard of an old-timey circus performer might seem like the obvious choice, I'm sure our friends at Old Navy Active have a more updated offering to suit the demands of your acrobatic lifestyle.
Because the elements are unforgiving. When a relentless game of tag on the steaming July playground has you sweating from the very marrow of your bones, the space-age technology of those arid, flexible fabrics will wick away your worries and the comfort of stretch-cottons will spring back into shape upon washing. Wearing that puddle your kid can't help stomping in is much less excruciating in quick-dry capris than in soggy jeans, wilted khakis, or (God-forbid) professional attire.
Because you're a grown-ass woman. You no longer fear banishment from the popular table for wearing your gym clothes to the lunch room. You've had milk shoot out of your upstairs, live beings come out of your downstairs, and a mercurial flow of joy, panic, fury, and worry intermittently overloading every circuit in between since Day 1 in the noble occupation of "Mom". Dress for the job you have and make no apologies. No longer giving a shit is not the same as giving up. Why run the marathon of motherhood in a cocktail dress when you can dress for success in the context of the moment?
So you may not be an athlete--but kids are still a contact sport. So be proud. Be comfortable. And be confident in the championship mom-wear of your choice.
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