“Look at her, she is one smoking hot Back Burner Babe.”

I’m pretty sure no one has said, “Wow she looked really sexy with her unwashed hair, no makeup and a worn-out cotton from head to toe fashion statement.” If they did, they would be talking about me.

A Back Burner Babe.

My ability to put myself on the back burner with such ease has lead me to the brink of a burnout look. I would describe my look as Back Burner Babe or Triple B. The Triple B is one that finds other tasks to fill the time rather than taking a shower, blowing out her hair or applying makeup. The Back Burner Babe can be found wearing an assortment of attire that is usually made of cotton and holds a level higher when it comes to comfort.  As an example of a back burner babe my hair is often in a pony tail or tucked under hat to hide the fact that I didn’t wash it today or didn’t feel like putting the time into “doing it.”

A Back Burner Babe.

Somewhere in the last year I’ve managed to slowly allow myself to wander closely to the edge of looking like I was just mugged in some dark alley. It’s become even easier to sport the look since joining a gym, now my fitness classes run into school pick-ups and drop-offs which lead into lunch or dinner which lead into errands and evening routines of baths, homework and stories which leads me right into bed with the same ponytail and plain face (minus  the yoga pants) that I rolled out bed with.  I’m ashamed to admit it since I have spent numerous seasons of Biggest Loser passing judgment on those that recited the cause of their situation as “I lost myself” or “It was easy to put the needs of my family before mine, and I never had the time.” I never understood and assumed it was just an excuse. But at the present day, I DO understand and have become an example of this too real excuse. It’s not an excuse these women had become Back Burner Babes too.

A Back Burner Babe.

I’ve tried my best in recent weeks to eliminate the excuse and make an effort to blow out my hair and apply more than just mascara. But when I do it’s such a foreign thing to my children that they bombard the bathroom as if it were some sort of amusement park. Scrambling to grab brushes off the counter while sticking their germy little fingers into pots of eyeliner and spreading lipstick across their tiny lips. The deed of applying makeup that I once enjoyed has become a form of torture and stress. Going without the stuff becomes a source of peace that now has turned into a shame.

Back Burner Babe.

I question if I am the only one who is doing this. What is the secret of these other put together mothers? How do they do it and what do they do with their children? Am I just in this era of struggle with priorities and sacrifice, where my children have become more important to myself rather than my self? I envy my friends that are able to put together outfits that looks as if they stepped from the pages of j.crew or leaves their home with a mane full and soft as if they just left the salon.   Surrounded by these beauties is me … the Back Burner Babe. Woe is me.

As we enter into a time of conjuring up lists of resolutions for the new year, one is at the top of my list … figure out a way to jump from that pot of forgotten muck on the back burner into the frying pan on the front burner that is smokin’ hot.

Yours Truly,

The Back Burner Babe