She DOESN'T wear short-shorts...idiots.

This morning I was indulging in the increasingly rare treat of listening to the Today show while I was washing the dishes I was to lazy to wash last night, since, miraculously, all three offspring were playing nicely in the basement and I had a moments peace. The "after nine" hours of Today are usually reserved for such hard hitting stories at Nora The Piano Playing Cat (think I'm kidding? Google it), and I listened with thinly veiled contempt wondering why it is assumed anyone not in an office at 9:15 can't handle regular, you know, news, but today, as I scraped the remains of last night's Carvel cake binge off the sides of the sink I heard Matt Lauer asking, "Were the shorts Michelle Obama wearing cause for an international fashion crisis?" Wha-WHAT??? My Michelle? My Michelle? Oh God, had she fallen into the trap of the in-shape older woman and gone to far in the skin department?

I ran into the family room, bracing myself for an image of my fallen idol replete with denim Daisy Dukes, lining of the front pockets hanging down her thighs, since that's what the tone of Matt's voice intimated. And what image was I greeted with instead? Michelle in mid-thigh twill shorts. This is what all the hub-bub is about? Isn't there still a war going on? Isn't the economy in the crapper? Do you people have nothing else to write about?

The argument I heard most often in the ensuing twenty minute segment against the First Lady's fashion choice was that her outfit was too informal to be photographed in descending from Air Force One. Was it informal? Sure. Where had Air Force One touched down? The Grand Canyon. In August. Taking her to a family vacation with her school aged children. In 106 degree heat. Black tie optional, I'd say.

The spotlight on Michelle highlights the struggle I, myself, am going through currently. As a mother, never mind as The Mother in Chief, I find it a constant struggle to find clothing that is both flattering and age appropriate. While my current job description requires a fair amount of jungle gym scaling and tempera paint splatter, and I could therefore, clad myself entirely in athletic gear, (which I do indulge in on my lazier days) or shapeless easy-wash garments, I am also a woman and want to feel attractive without dressing too young for my age. It's like a fashion tightrope walk trying to balance the needs of your life, with tryin' to show watcha still got - and not look like a cougarish whore all at the same time. Ain't nothing sadder than Mommy trying to hold onto the dream by the muffin top.

The penultimate example is bathing suits. There are several models in the "Mom" category at my local pool - all lovely, in their own way. Of course, There's Mom Who Really Hasn't Lost the Baby Weight, and lets' be honest, we have all been there. She rocks a bathing suit in a dark color, usually with a skirt. Then there's Mom Who Has Definitely Lost All the Baby Weight and Wants Everyone to Know It who wears a string bikini. In our old, ghetto, town, it was usually leopard print and accompanied by a belly button ring and aviator sunglasses. In the new town, it's a Lily Pulitzer, but still, it's string bikini in the baby pool. It's like wearing a cocktail dress to Back To School Night. Too much. Then there is a new species, I had not yet seen until we moved to the new town. It's I Have Lost All the Baby Weight But Am Curiously Still Wearing a Tankini with a Skirt Bottom Mom. These gals have great figures, but are still covering up. I am perplexed. Not that I suggest they rock the butt floss, but if ya got it, flaunt it - tastefully. Then there's me. I wear a aqua two piece with a very wide strapped halter top to hold up the pitiful post-nursing rack and full-coverage (meaning no ass crackage is peeking out) bottom and my ubiquitous Yankee hat. I'm hoping to be interpretted as I Don't Think I Look Too Bad and am Not Willing to Wear a Bathing Dress As of Yet, Thank You.

I'm sure my Michelle had the same dilemma and I, for one, am proud of her for not succumbing to the pressure and descending those plane stairs wearing some matronly pantsuit and trit-trotting around the Grand Canyon like some fruit in sensible Easy Spirit pumps. Instead of wearing an outfit that said,"Oooh! Look, nature, how quaint!", she wore an outfit that said, "I'm going to hike the shit out of this motherfucker!" The way she was dressed was appropriate for the situation and for her body type - exactly what I strive for in my "work" wardrobe.

And my heart skipped a little beat when I saw some dimpling on the back of those thighs. Oh, Michelle, champion of the pear shape, you are my hero. And the fact you also wore a baseball hat proves we are soulmates.

And Barack, suit pants and polo shirt? Really? Please check with Michelle from now on before leaving the house. You look like a big pussy.