My favorite Dirty Mommy cap

My favorite Dirty Mommy cap

Dirty Mommy: noun
1. Unshowered female parent.
2. Woman with child(ren) who covers up her unwashed, unruly hair with a baseball cap.
3. Parental being, with a vagina, who leaves the house with out washing her face, brushing her teeth or putting on make-up.

Being a Dirty Mommy started a few days after my son was born, almost 15 years ago. Showering every day, and all of those things that go along with it, became an unattainable goal.

On that day, my mom flew from Miami to New York City to be with her grandson and to help me recover from my C-section. I greeted her at the apartment door, in the middle of the day, with my hair askew, dried saliva on my chin and wearing an old ripped t-shirt (my favorite one from college) paired with my husband’s sweatpants.

I had become Dirty Mommy.

And I got a lecture from my mother that day that included the following bits of advice: You should shower, fix your hair, put on makeup and unstained clothing before your husband gets home from work. Make him happy to come home to you. (She left out the part about dropping to your knees and giving him a blow job too. But that wasn’t in the cards either.)

As much as I tried, her advice didn’t work for me. And luckily, my second husband doesn’t mind those days when I just can’t get it together before bedtime. (Besides, it’s not like he comes home in a Brooks Brothers suit smelling of Old Spice. No, he comes home from his restaurant smelling like chicken guts, bleach, wood smoke and body odor.)

And honestly, I’m not a Dirty Mommy every day. I work outside of the house a couple days a week. And do the whole Clean Professional thing. But I was on a real Dirty Mommy kick this past weekend.

Early Saturday morning, I had to take my son to his baseball evaluations. I wore the Dirty Mommy uniform: running shorts, old sweatshirt, sneakers and a baseball cap. And that was okay because I saw my friend there and she was dressed similarly. Dirty Mommys need to stick together.

(Later in the day, I did shower and get dolled up to go the mall and my son’s basketball game. Even I have my limits.)

Then Sunday morning, Dirty Mommy went to Winn Dixie. It was before 8 a.m. and I needed to get some eggs to make pancakes. I wore my pajama top, a different sweatshirt, running shorts that I pulled out of the hamper and flip flops. No bra and no baseball cap. Luckily I was the only customer in the store.

That afternoon, I took the kids to Sports Authority. My son needed a new baseball glove. My daughter needed new sneakers. And the paper had a coupon for $20 off your purchase over $100. I thought about doing a whole outfit change but I just didn’t feel like starting the process. So I threw on a bra and a baseball cap. And an old t-shirt that had been my son’s before he grew seven inches taller than me.

Obviously, I was hoping not to see anyone I knew but I knew I was pushing it, even for me. Turning a corner, I saw my ex-husband. Not a big deal. We’ve been divorced almost ten years. Whatever. I called out to him, “Hey there. Whatcha doing?” The response back was, “Oh not much. Here with insert girlfriend’s name and her kids.”

F#*k.

I mean, it’s one thing for my ex-husband to see me as Dirty Mommy. He saw me take a dump on the labor table for goodness’ sake. But his girlfriend? She’s right up there on my list of people that I don’t want to run in to when I’m not looking my best. A list that includes my first boyfriend (who broke my heart) or one of my brother’s internet royalty friends or even one of my kids’ teachers. And it’s not even because she’s a supermodel or this sexy bitch. No, she’s a mom just like me. And she seems down to earth. And my kids like her.

It’s just, I guess, that I actually do have a small smidgeon of vanity left. Dirty Mommy or not, I care about how I look. At least to certain people.So after we made our purchases, and said our goodbyes, I came right home and took a full service shower: shave, exfoliate, shampoo and condition. And even though I wasn’t going anywhere to watch the Super Bowl, I blew dry my hair, put on a clean pair of linen shorts, one of my nicest t-shirts, makeup and even a necklace.

Because I figured that last run in was the doing of a higher power telling me to get my ass in the shower.

For the record, there’s also this fourth definition of Dirty Mommy:

4. Woman who has given birth yet is still a sexual being and likes to get down and dirty in the bedroom or anywhere else she might feel the urge. With or without a partner.

And this is the one that I like being even more so than the first three. Just ask my Dirty Husband.