As I mentioned, I was in Dallas for a bar and bat mitzvah this past weekend. Besides comparing the ceremonies and parties of now to those of then (as in, 20 years ago, when I was 13), I realized something about traveling with a toddler. It seems that the smaller the person, the more you need to bring for them.
I have traveled around seven countries of Europe twice with less baggage than I needed for 48 hours in Texas. Forget not checking a bag. For my first experience with staying in a hotel with my daughter, I packed enough changes of clothes to keep her outfitted for a week. But without ready access to a washing machine and her tendency to wear half of what she tries to eat, what else could I do? I also brought enough healthy foods (see my post about vacay eating) to feed several adults. Crazy? Perhaps. But there was no way I was chancing having to pay mini bar prices.
This all really came to mind after my mother-in-law twice pointed out that I had to schlep a diaper bag instead of delicately carrying something more fashionable. Unfortunately my dressy bag – a Lauren Merkin clutch – wouldn’t be able to accommodate several size 4 Pampers, a wipes case, several bags of various Gerber Graduates, a snack cup of peanut butter Ritz Bits, a jacket in case my daughter got cold, tissues, two water cups, two toddler books, and my wallet.
In my defense, my “diaper bag” is actually a snazzy Lululemon Athletica bag that just so happens to have all the right compartments in all the right sizes for toting all of my 21-month-old’s assorted items. The bag is a lifesaver and I love it, plus it’s black so it’s subdued and goes with everything – including the dresses I wore to temple and to the party. So, I think I deserve a slice of slack for forgoing a posh purse.
In retrospect, it’s not easy getting dressed up with a toddler around, period. At the temple, I laughed at the image of myself sitting on the lobby floor in my Ann Taylor dress and high-heeled pumps while keeping Ellie from disturbing the goings-on. I mean, there was Play-Doh involved. And markers. I was dodging spilled food and milk and praying the rubber soles on her gold mary janes wouldn’t somehow snag my pantyhose mid-Haftarah.
My ability to be fashionable has slowly increased as my daughter has grown. At first, the constant spit-up prohibited any kind of nice shirt or dress, and her habit of grabbing dangly earrings and necklaces precluded wearing those. Once she was starting to be mobile, I stopped wearing dresses and skirts because I spent most of my time cross-legged on the floor with her. Slowly, I have added jewelry back into the mix, and the occasional nicer ensemble, but I can see where moms get a bad rap for the Mom Look.
How do you maintain your style while adapting to the necessities of motherhood?
Check out our list of the most stylish Jewish moms and our interview with Piper Weiss, author of the book My Mom, the Style Icon.
