The importance of decent pajamas

Since becoming a mummy and resigning myself to a less-than-chic existence, I have strengthened my resolve in one specific area. Well, two. The first is to always use a good moisturizer (early 40s and no Botox yet, y'all!) and the second, and most important, is to ALWAYS go to bed wearing my nighttime finest.

I know what you are thinking. A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste. But you couldn't be more wrong. I am not referring to see-through bras, purple thongs or clear plastic heels. By nighttime finest I mean a set of clean, respectable pjs with a very simple pattern and colors that broadcast well on TV.

Before you get all preachy on me: no, I am not filming some lurid, high-def housewife porn, though the thought has crossed my mind. (Preschool is expensive, and we have three children.) Some people have their earthquake kits for when disaster strikes. I have that, but something even more valuable. I have a nighttime ensemble in the unfortunate case that there is a fire, we have to escape and local news crew shows up wanting to interview survivors. My hair will likely be a disaster, but I will still come off looking fairly pulled together despite having smoke inhalation.

Many years ago, I saw a news clip about an apartment fire in Chicago that struck at two in the morning. Residents were vacated and had to stand in the street, half-asleep, shivering and talking to reporters. Most of them were wearing hideous overnight garb: stained wife beaters, boxer shorts with holes, ill-fitting sweats. Baaaaad stuff. I resolved at that moment never to be one of those overnight fire survivors. If I had to lose my house to a fire, there was no way in hell I was going to look crappy on the evening news too.

The mister is much more practical and routinely checks that the smoke and carbon monoxide poisoning alarms are in working order to avoid disaster in the first place. Good for him. I am doing my part, ensuring the Alt family name is respected and that I don't embarrass anyone by going on TV and looking like a refugee.

I think they call it shared sacrifice.

What did I learn this summer?

Faithful readers, you will be pleased to know that I didn't waste an entire summer shopping online or reading trashy beach novels. I in fact have acquired some new skills and knowledge! They include:

1.  How to julienne a zucchini. Properly.
2.  How to change a diaper with an upside down infant. Harder than it looks.
3.  How to drive past trucks with Mitt Romney stickers and chuckle. Not too loudly.
4.  How to prepare shopping lists and write a press release. At the same time. This is also harder than it looks.
5.  How to stick three screaming children in a car without drawing too much attention to myself.
6.  How to be neighborly. Big one! I went to a new neighbor's house and introduced myself. By, like, myself.
7.  How to prep a Slip N Slide.
8.  How to wipe runny noses, take temperatures and dispense Tylenol. For three people. All of them under five.
9.  How to disguise boxes so the Mister doesn't think I am spending too much shopping online.
10. How to love the suburbs.

Ha ha, that last one is a crock of shit. But I am working on it.