Ok, it's Jan. 29... and I'm just posting the first blog of the year. I am such a slacker!!
Anyway, things are going along just swimmingly here in J-Town. We are trying to muddle through the yuckiest part of the year. I am so ready for spring to be here! I try really hard to be fashionable and reasonably well put-together, but it is a struggle at this point in the year.
I REALLY want to be wearing comfy pants, a tshirt, a hoodie -- even if K. swears that all of my coaching hoodies look like 1970 throwbacks, and tennis shoes.
Obviously, I am not wearing that, as I'm pretty sure I'd be escorted immediately from the building. I have, however, found that leggings and billowy dresses -- paired with flat shoes -- are pretty equivalent. Every now and then -- such as today -- I will throw in something a little different, just to spice things up. Today, for example, I am wearing leggings, a gray tiered dress, and black boots.
One of my co-workers has dubbed me "Jack Sparrow." I'm not terribly sure that's meant as a compliment.
Anyway, I'm not the only one having dressing difficulties in the house. Both of the kids are quite adament about their clothing, and it's really starting to annoy me.
Fashion Rule #1: I am the Mommy. I pick out the clothes and match them. No 4-year old or 20-month old has any sort of fashion sense.
Laney prefers to pick out her shoes. I let her -- as long as they match. She obviously has no concept of what matching means. Yesterday, she wanted to wear white sandals. Hello -- it's cold AND white shoes are out of season.
A huge brouhaha ensued, involving much screaming and gnashing of teeth.
She did not wear the white sandals.
Fashion Rule #2: I am the mommy. I am a bit particular about how you look. You should be, too.
I do concede on some things, like Ethan's hair. His hair is much cuter when spiked a little in front, but he H.A.T.E.S. for his hair to stand up. I have thus far refrained from holding his superheroes hostage until he lets me fix his hair the right way; he currently sports a slightly modern version of my dad's part-and-comb-over style.
I will not, however, allow him to leave the house to go anywhere in clothes that don't match or aren't complimentary. My parents, however, delight in dressing him in odd combinations that make me cringe.
It's a conspiracy, I believe.
Last week, my dad dressed Ethan -- for DINNER OUT, mind you -- in his black Halloween shirt (which reads "Little Devil" or something hokey like that in red sparkly letters), odd colored khakis, and navy blue Crocs.
I almost had a seizure when I saw him, precious little pumpkin, standing in the waiting area of a local restaurant.
My dad was smirking.
I was not amused.
Now I remember why my mom meticulously laid out our clothes, even when she wasn't going to be home to dress us.
Mental note: Must remember to pack clothes for kids when Toad is in charge.
Second mental note: Must remember to pack clothes for kids when Toad and/or Mary are in charge. Mary has been known to send Ethan to school in his pajamas.
Third mental note: Must remember to lay out clothes for Laney when K is in charge. He digs through closet to find clothes she has not worn in months. Usually too small/ out of season/ stained/ mismatched.
K says I'm a bit, a-hem, OCD about the kids' clothes and that no one cares, but I have to beg to differ. It's one thing for Laney to be running around in a diaper and tshirt at the house. It's quite another for her to be running around in public in pants that are too short or a dress with a popsicle stain on the front.
We have to have standards here.
