If your four year old comes up to you and asks you to smell her finger, it would be in your best interest to not do it.
Even if she tells you it smells like roses.
Because, odds are, she’s lying.
And it will be an assault on your olfactory senses that will scar you for life.
Yesterday I went to see my ob/gyn. Of course, since I’m not pregnant, I guess he’s just my gyn. The ob part of his duties have been fulfilled.
Although truth be told he wasn’t on call the night Caroline was born and his partner was busy with an emergency c-section so she literally had her hands full. Satan was my nurse and refused to give me the epidural because she wasn’t convinced I was in labor which, at that point, was the equivalent of saying she wasn’t sure if I was pregnant.
But, really, I’m over it.
I certainly don’t mention it to him every time I see him. And, hypothetically speaking, if I do mention it every time I see him it’s only because I’m waiting for some kind of plaque or even a small trophy rewarding my heroic efforts for getting to ten centimeters without the aid of an epidural when my original birth plan clearly stated I’d like the epidural two weeks prior to delivery.
It was a monumental feat for someone who begins to hyperventilate at the mere mention of having blood drawn or having to go on a week-long vacation with only one suitcase.
Anyway, I scheduled an appointment a few weeks ago when I looked in the mirror and discovered my hormones were under the impression that I was thirteen years old. Not only was my chin completely in need of some Clearasil, but I started to cry when I realized we were out of Smart Start. And then I wrote a note to P asking if he still liked me and to check yes or no.
I explained all this to my ob/gyn and he agreed that something had definitely shifted. Thankfully he did not tell me I was in some kind of early menopause because I would have started screaming for an epidural. Instead he thought we should change my birth control pills.
If we could make a clear decision about whether or not to have another baby, I wouldn’t be stuck in this pill purgatory. But, alas, I have a hard time making decisions about what type of potato chips to buy at HEB so, clearly, I can’t be expected to make a decision as monumental as bringing another human into the world.
Another baby? Not another baby?
Cheetos? Doritos?
It’s enough to make my head explode.
So, I took my first Yaz pill last night even though I have a problem with Yaz because of their commercials that make it appear that when women are out with our friends we sit around and casually talk about the side effects of birth control pills.
“Remember Suzie, you shouldn’t use an MAO Inhibitor if you are currently taking Yaz. Also, it may increase your chances of headaches, stroke, or having mind-numbing conversations with your girlfriends who wish you’d shut your trap about the pharmacodynamics of Yaz.”
At this moment I have a hormonal headache, slight nausea and an overwhelming urge to throw a toaster oven through the kitchen window.
In other words, I’m totally back to normal.
Obviously, it’s going to take a few days to adjust to my new hormonal regimen.
In the meantime, I’m stocking up on Sea Breeze astringent because it totally cleared my face up back in 1986.
Let’s hope it can work a similar miracle twenty-two years later.
By the way, P checked yes. I totally knew he liked me.
Caroline woke up last Thursday and, per her quaint and annoying custom, asked what we were doing for the day before I could even manage to get my eyes open.
“Umm, I don’t know what we’re doing.”
Not to mention I’m not sure where I am or what day it is.
“I KNOW! LET’S GO BOWLING-BALLING.”
And because I made the mistake of smiling at the way she said “bowling-balling”, she misinterpreted it as an agreement.
I keep a mental list of things I don’t want to think about before 10 a.m. It includes such things as global warming, the presidential elections, the stock market, and going bowling.
I can’t commit to bowling, or even bowling-balling, before noon.
So I told her we had plans to meet Bops for lunch and several errands to run. If we got everything done, we’d see about going bowling.
And everyone knows “we’ll see” is mama code for I’m going to put this off and hope she’ll forget about it by 2:00 p.m.
We met Bops at China Sea, which has a buffet that defies the laws of gastrointestinal science. Does anyone really want to eat a spring roll on the same plate as some Cajun-style crawfish and sweet-n-sour chicken with some canned pears thrown in for good measure?
After lunch, we stopped by the elementary school to turn in all her Kindergarten registration paperwork. It wasn’t heart-wrenching at all and the office staff didn’t even seem to mind that I launched into a rendition of “Sunrise, Sunset” while I sobbed and held Caroline tight.
I bet they can’t wait for the first day of school in the fall. That’s when I’ll wow them with my performance of “Circle of Life”.
There were a few more errands to run, but I decided we might as well do a little bowling-balling.
After the whole Kindergarten registration thing, I realized she’ll be leaving for college in about two weeks. And she’ll drive off in some type of electric car while I lament the fact that we didn’t spend enough time at the bowling alley.
Because isn’t that the regret of every parent? Not enough bowling.
We ran by the house to pick up the necessary socks to ensure that neither of us contracted HORRENDOUS FOOT FUNGUS OF DEATH BY BOWLING SHOE, then picked up her cousin Benjamin because I knew she’d have more fun with a friend.
Once we arrived at the bowling alley, I paid for our games and got the kids some rental shoes. I figured I’d just let them bowl while I sat back and offered helpful bowling strategies, such as how to push the button to get someone to bring you snacks from the snack bar.
I had to drag them away from the arcade games because LOOK! we can bowl. They have bowling here! Remember that thing that you’ve been begging to do all day?
So, they bowled. And, in spite of the bumpers, they both managed to roll a gutter ball, which I think takes a tremendous amount of skill. I could tell the bowling staff was highly impressed at what we brought to the game, especially when I took off my shoes and tried to walk barefoot down the lane to retrieve the ball stuck between the gutter and the bumper.
And I decided that an afternoon at the bowling alley isn’t a terribly horrendous way to spend a few hours, except for the fact that they only serve Pepsi products. However, they make a delightful giant pretzel that is equal parts buttery and salty goodness.
Plus, the music at the bowling alley totally rocks. In fact, I may start hanging out there just for the pretzels and the 80’s music. In the time we were there they played “Oh Mickey”, “Fight for Your Right to Party”, “Love is a Battlefield” and “Smooth Criminal”. Any playlist that includes the Beastie Boys and some vintage Michael Jackson is right up my alley.
Do you see what I did there with the reference to the alley?
All cylinders today, my friends. All cylinders.
You’ve been hit by, you’ve been struck by, a smooth criminal.
We were almost finished with our game when an elderly couple came in and started bowling a few lanes down from us. They were easily in their 80’s and were clearly veteran bowlers because they owned their own bowling balls complete with monogrammed bowling ball bags. They were precious. And it made me hope that P and I still bowl together when we’re in our 80’s because it just seemed so sweet.
Then I remembered that we don’t bowl together now. In fact, I don’t know that we’ve ever bowled together. But as God is my witness we’re going to start sometime in the next forty years.
If for no other reason than the pretzels.
And the music.
Caroline spent the night with Mimi and Bops last night and then they got up this morning to head to the driving range to practice her golf swing.
Because, like I said, she’s obsessed.
After they spent an hour or so practicing her budding golf skills, they left to grab lunch and then bring her home.
However, she told them she wanted to go back to their house instead of coming home because there are too many rules at her house.
“They have too many rules and always tell me things like I can’t have any more candy.”
So, basically, it’s like prison.
Just wait until she turns thirteen and we make her wear an orange jumpsuit and pick up trash on the side of the highway.
Mimi and Bops showed up with a little surprise for Caroline yesterday and in one fail swoop have created a new obsession.
This is my side of the family’s idea of an outdoor activity.
And it appears that she has inherited some genetic golf prowess from Bops.
And inherited fashion intuition in any situation from me.
Check out the socks.
She was clearly born for the golf course.
You know what’s awesome? When I realize it’s 10:30 p.m. on Thursday night and I haven’t even started writing my Fashion Friday post. And really, the whole thing usually only takes about two to three hours.
Perfection.
Once again, procrastination has been totally worth it.
I’m so glad I decided to spend that time looking through back issues of Paula Deen’s magazine, filing my nails, and eating Red Hots.
But, seriously, you know what’s really awesome? All the comments y’all left yesterday. There is no way I could be that honest if y’all weren’t the best. THE BEST. Thank you.
So remember how last week on Fashion Friday I said I believed that white patent shoes are best reserved for girls under the age of ten? Well, I was out walking Scout and Bruiser on Monday morning and noticed an empty shoe box on the top of somebody’s recycling bin.
Go green, neighbor. Good for you.
And because I have some sort of voyeuristic fashion tendencies, I glanced to see what kind of shoes were once contained therein.
WHITE PATENT, WOMENS’ SIZE 9.
Well that is just unfortunate.
I’m going to get straight to the questions because I’d like to get to bed before 3 a.m.
1. Pinkmommy asks: “I am 5 months pregnant. My little sister’s best friend is getting married at the end of June, and the Princess is the flower girl. I will be 9 months pregnant. At a wedding. In the middle of summer. I don’t know what in the world to wear!!! I don’t want to look like a whale, I don’t want to stand out, and I don’t want to look like a whale. Please help!!!
Bless your heart. Being 9 months pregnant in the middle of summer is miserable enough without the prospect of having to get dressed up. I know of what I speak because Caroline was born in August and I spent most of the summer in a swimsuit sitting in a plastic kiddie pool while drinking out of the hose.
Not looking at all like white trash, by the way.
I think your best bet is to check out the Liz Lange maternity wear at Target because you don’t want to spend much money on a dress you’re only going to wear once.
I really like this one. And this one.
And if pregnancy has taken its toll on your arms and the sleeveless makes you cringe, then look for a lightweight wrap like this one to cover them up.
Although if memory serves, you’ll be so hot already that the thought of another layer will make you want to buy a bag of ice to sit on throughout the ceremony.
2. Amy asks: “My husband and I are traveling to New York with my dad in mid-April for a fun weekend. The typical highs that time of year are in the upper 50’s. When we go there, we walk A LOT, and I need a cute comfortable shoe.
I totally understand your pain. When Gulley and I went to New York a few years ago, I wore running shoes the whole time which were basically a neon sign on my feet saying TOURIST! TOURIST! But I couldn’t figure out what else to wear for all the walking.
Many people believe the cute, comfortable shoe is an urban shoe myth. But it exists. It really does. The trick is that you have to spend a little more money to get it. Any shoe that bears a Merona label is not going to cut it in New York. And Payless will make you search for a butter knife with which you can just amputate your feet on 5th Avenue.
You mentioned that in the past you’ve always worn a mary jane type shoe, but didn’t know if it would work since the weather will still be cooler. I think a mary jane would look great, but the problem may be that it won’t work with jeans because you may need a slight heel to compensate for longer hems on the jeans. Something like this might be perfect because it has a slight wedge heel.
It would look equally great with jeans or black pants. And really, that’s all you need. Some nice jeans and black pants with a few cute tops and jackets and you’re all set.
Or if a totally flat shoe would work, I adore these. And since animal prints really are the new neutrals, they’ll go with just about anything.
Hope y’all have a great time!
3. JanMary asks: I am going to Paris for 4 nights with my husband in May – for this 40th birthday – NO KIDS! I always hear about a capsule wardrobe – but I tend more to bring everything I might possibly need, to cover all eventualities. Can you help with how much I would actually need?
Hey, I have a question. Why is everyone taking fabulous vacations except me? You people are leading some jet set lifestyles. What is up?
Really, it’s totally fine. Really.
But on a serious note, I cannot tell you to what extent I am the wrong person to answer this question. I know there are people who can pack everything they need for a week-long vacation in a backpack, but I am not one of them.
My worst nightmare is being away from home and not having wardrobe options. Seriously, I have had nightmares about this. Think of me what you will.
So, my best advice is to pack a lot of black. It goes with everything and you might be able to get away with only packing one pair of shoes.
You may want to check out Chicos. They have an entire section of clothing called Travelers that is wrinkle-proof, plus it’s all 30% off right now. This dress might be a good basic that you could dress up or down.
Have fun in Paris, say hello to the Mona Lisa, and if you need me I’m sure I’ll probably just be at Target.
4. Full Hearts and Hands asks: “I have a 6 week old and she is my third. So, my belly looks like jelly. That is to say I have a belly that is bigger than usual and a budget that is small. But, I have to go to wedding in April and I’d also like to have a dressier outfit or two for church. But, I’d like the clothes to still look decent when I lose the weight (hopefully soon).”
Oh, you are in luck. This is a great fashion time to find clothes that are friendly to the belly area.
You could always do something like this dress. The black would be slimming, it can be dressed up or down, and it would still work after you lose some weight because it’s meant to be worn a little loose.
Or you could do something like this shift dress.
Dresses like these look current and pretty with the added benefit of not being fitted at the waist. If I were you, I’d go look at TJ Maxx, Ross, and Marshalls to see what you can find.
If you’re willing to dig through some of the yuck, you can usually find some cute dresses for great prices.
5. Ranelle asks: “Is it true? Are pegged pants coming back?! Please say no!!”
Ranelle sent me this link to J.Crew featuring the pegged pant.
No. They are not coming back.
Just because some YAYHOO in the J.Crew catalog department decided to torture that poor model, doesn’t mean that it’s a trend. It’s just J.Crew’s way of trying to strike fear in the heart of American women and men (admit men, you did it it too. Just own it.) everywhere.
J.Crew has a sick and twisted sense of humor as evidenced by the fact that they think any man would wear these pants.
And that’s all the questions for today. However, I have two pieces of Fashion Friday business.
First, several of you have emailed and asked if I can do the links as some sort of pop-up instead of sending you to another page. And the answer is, I have no idea.
You people vastly overestimate my technological prowess.
But if someone out there will tell me how, I’ll gladly do it. Otherwise, we’re stuck clicking over.
Secondly, next week on Fashion Friday I’m going to announce a fun little spring fashion event. So be on the lookout. There will even be a prize.
I KNOW.
It will be hard to sleep between now and then.
Y’all have a great Friday!
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