My cousin recently mentioned this to me at a birthday party.
It is true.
I am a bit of a crazy person with the older girls and their hair.
If they want it long, then it has to be up. From an early age, I would put their hair up, no excuses.
Thus, terms like "soccer hair"- two french braids, "softball hair"- half -up braid and then another braid to ensure the batting helmet can stay on, and "swimming braids" - two braids to keep goggles in place, have become part of our lexicon.
They don't expect to be permitted to leave the house with their hair down or in a headband alone.
Call me crazy, but the last thing I want is having to negotiate knots and tangles at the end of the day. I have been known to change out pigtails for braids mid-way through an event, like a baptism or party.
Clothing is another debate. Moira would prefer t-shirts and comfy shorts every day, while Maeve rotates from a steady supply of summer dresses. If I need Mo in a dress, it's a production. Conversely if we're going somewhere that necessities Maeve in shorts, it's a production.
Two girls, same parents, same house, similar DNA, yet so very different.
Thank God Margo still lets me put her in whatever I desire.
It's not them, however that I'm choosing to write about today.
I have a confession.
Margo is a week away from eight months, and in this period of time, I can count on two hands the times I have worn bottoms that do not have elastic waistbands. I shy away from jeans, shorts, capris, instead wearing yoga pants, yoga capris, and elastic waisted skirts.
The same skirts I wore last year with my pregnant bump.
I am in a style rut.
I look disheveled.
I'm not proud, and honestly, I'm kind of depressed about it.
My belly is disgustingly stretched out, and my clothes all fit strangely. Add horrible nursing bras to the mix, and I'm one sad looking individual.
I feel like prior to getting pregnant, I was slowly getting back to some resemblance of me. Grant it, I wasn't one hundred percent happy with the way I looked, but I had started to develop some style.
And then I got pregnant.
Maternity dressing wasn't so bad either. I did my best to accessorize, add color, and change it up.
But now, here I am wearing the same uniform almost daily: black yoga capris & a t-shirt or a pull on skirt with a v-neck t.
I hate feeling like this, but I don't even know where to start. I've tried shopping online, but I know that I need to physically try things on. I really wish in the explanation of items they would say, "This piece is great in hiding that mama pouch!" or "Perfect for those breastfeeding enormous boobs!" Until that happens, my purchases online for clothing will be reserved for the girls.
As for shopping in person, that's another obstacle. I'm rarely in a position where I can try things on alone. Usually, all three kids are in tow, thus leaving little room for me to twist and twirl in front of the mirrors.
Yesterday, on a trip to Target, I brought a few things into the dressing room. Under the watchful eye of my budding fashionistas, I collected various skirts, a few shirts, and two pairs of jeans to try on. Not five minutes in, Margo started crying, Maeve kept going on and on about the toy aisles, while Mo asked when we would be finished. This is exactly the type of environment that leads to ridiculous purchases: like an orange, pink, and white skirt that for some reason had side cut outs like running shorts.
I ended up buying that skirt and a pair of jeans, after getting votes of approval from Moira and Maeve.
Yes, my five and three year old were my votes of validation.
I should have known better, because they were off. Trying the skirt on at home, without the pressures of the changing room, I realized how ill fitting it truly was. Bryan's confirmation of my suspicions led to another field trip to a different Target today to return the skirt.
I've tried scouring my closet, but I'm just too damn tired and lazy. Some of my previously favorite pieces aren't fitting the way they once did. I've looked to the web, and pinterest for inspiration, but I'm at a loss. I wish I could figure out how to do it, without breaking the bank and my self esteem.
I just want to look pretty again, and I don't want to put any time or energy into getting that way.
Is that a lot to ask for?
So, for now, when you see me in real life, wearing the same yoga pants and t-shirt for the one hundredth time, be kind.
I'm working on it.