I know there’s a bit of a standard in many churches that Sunday mornings require one’s “Sunday best,” meaning you must participate in the unspoken rule of wearing a suit and tie if you’re male, or a dress if you’re female. This is clearly not at all churches—many have a very laid-back, come-as-you-are attitude that is very sincere. And then there are some very staunchly traditional churches that may give you the cold shoulder if you’re wearing even dress pants (I’m talking females here). Anyway, I’m not writing this to get into some semi-political/theological discussion on proper church attire, and how your clothing either brings honor or shame to God—I honestly don’t care to get into such an argument, as it would probably only end in frustration.
I just want to say that I still dress up, and I’d like to explain why, without ever bringing God into it. (Although the mere fact that I’m talking about my attire while going to worship God technically is still centered around Him, but just bear with me here.) As a mother of two small children, and particularly now as a mother who could go for weeks without ever seeing another human being if I chose, I set all my own standards of living. I don’t have a hungry husband coming home at 6 that I need to have dinner prepared for. I don’t have to go to any fancy work parties for my husband’s office. I don’t ever need to be seen with anyone other than my children.
And this state of living is nice, but it is making me more lazy than usual. If my kids stay up way too late and then the baby wakes up and cries for hours in the middle of the night, leaving him exhausted enough to sleep until noon, why should I get up before then? Nobody will know the difference. No one’s coming home at lunch to make me feel guilty for being such a slouch while the “rest of the world” has been productive for 4 hours of the day so far. Does it really matter if I’m still in my pajamas at 2 in the afternoon?
I haven’t started watching soap operas yet, or making grilled cheese with an iron, so I haven’t quite sunk to Mr. Mom levels of stay-at-home parenting, but this lifestyle is why I still dress up on Sundays. Sunday is the one day of the week where I set an alarm. It is the one day that I force myself to care a little more than usual, and by doing so, I am rewarded. Staying in one’s pajamas all day sounds like fun, but in the end, I find myself more drained and feeling gross. Not to mention I seem to way too ready to have a “good” reason for eating massive doses of chocolate, or whatever form of sugar I happen to find.
When I dress up on a Sunday it’s not just throwing on jeans and a t-shirt to make myself presentable to run errands in; it’s taking a little bit of pride in how I look. And I don’t mean pride like, “Oh, everyone look how pretty I am. You all just wish you could look as hot as me!” I mean the type of pride that one gets when dressing for a job, or even a job interview. Perhaps it’s more of just a feeling of self-worth. I get to feel like a person, not just a mommy (which seems to be synonymous with maid, short-order cook, and babysitter, all at once). Once again, I am not saying that a mommy is an unworthy job, only that it can leave said mommy very drained, and I think it’s important that mothers get a chance to feel good about themselves, and to get out of the house looking and feeling confident and happy at least one day a week.
So as long as I’m still dressing up on Sundays, all is not lost; and while I’m semi-shooting for being a productive person with a before-noon schedule for every day of the week, my mediocre goal is to just hang on to Sundays. And I’m pretty confident I will succeed.
Tags: church, clothing, culture, mommyhood, single parenting
The Daring Kitchen
