Friday, May 7, 2010

Pump, Pump, Pump it Up defines "pumps" as:

n. A machine or device raising, compressing or transferring fluids.
v. To raise or cause to flow; draw, deliver or put forth.

It continues to go through various meanings including the heart, lifting weights, getting excited, pumping gas, etc. The very last one is: n. A woman's shoe that has medium or high heels and no fastenings. I have always thought it a fun way to describe high heels but never, really, understood who started it or why. "Pumps" allows me to envision Donna Reed prancing around in her puffed out skirt and pearls, each and every hair exactly where it should be, small, frilly apron tied around her tiny waist line, mothering her all but perfect children whom never had any issue that couldn't be solved in 30 minutes or less. We all know that the Reed's are a rather skewed version of reality and yet, somewhere in the back of our mind, we all aspire to join their ranking. (at least I do)

I wonder what the "modern" Donna might look like. She might have a cute pixie cut, a flouncy, flowing top and cuffed, khaki 3" shorts. Maybe she would have on an Ed Hardy t-shirt and Citizens Jeans with shoulder length, straight ironed hair. Skinny jeans and a tunic top, a floor length hippie dress and summer scarf, ripped up hipsters and a tank top... ? Who knows but one thing is for sure, she wouldn't be wearing pumps, she would be wearing stilettos. How sexy does that word sound? Stilettos! Come on, say it out loud. It automatically lifts you MUCH closer to MILF status to wear them. I have a friend who is so set in her stiletto ways that she even wore them through the birth of her son. No, I didn't say to, I said through, as in she never took them off. Talk about hard core!

I wish I had the energy and the time to "dress" every day. I have to admit that I get a little green with envy when I see the modern day Donna's at the grocery store, park, or school drop off and I'm in my yoga pants, and old t-shirt with baby spit up (that I haven't discovered yet) or breast milk covering, in desperate need of a shower. I would much rather be in my "cute clothes" with clean hair, fun jewelry and smell of perfume covering the smell of breast milk. My days don't always afford me that luxury. I'm crossing my fingers that, when Murphy takes his nap, Keegan will entertain Kendall long enough for me to jump in the shower and maybe even blow dry my hair. I wonder if Donna ever stayed in her PJ's all day, dirty hair plastered to her head?

Some day, the children will be grown. Real trucks will replace match box ones, Victoria's Secret will fill in for training panties and learning to crawl will turn into track practice. I don't long for those days to come any faster than they already are but I know when they do get here, I'll have plenty of time to dress every day. I wonder if I will?

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