So I have been totally been getting SCHOOLED in the "daughter clothing department" throughout my first two years as a mother.
When I first envisioned bringing Georgia home from the hospital, I envisioned it to be something along the lines of a movie premier. Me, in a fabulous outfit, baby weight gone, holding my beautiful daughter in her first, very expensive dress from some store that I really can't afford. Flash bulbs going off, people crying... hysteria of new papal announcement proportions!!! I had seen my friends pictures on Facebook... eyes gleaming, holding their newborns, family by their side...out of the hospital and on to experience all of the GLORY that is motherhood!
Um..okay. What the fuck. That is not what happens. or that is not what happened to me anyway.
First of all, when I envisioned going home from the hospital, I did not envision wearing a HUGE maxie pad the size of P-Diddy's yacht, nor did I expect my stomach to look so totally disgusting. I also thought I would be able to at least put some make up on and do my hair. And that someone would be ready with a camera to document the epic event.
Fail, fail, fail in all areas. My glamorous "going home" outfit was not to be. My hair was in a wet bun, and I was in my fucking pajamas. At least they were new.
On to Georgia's "going home outfit" It was from an adorable children's store called Dimples and Dandelions. It was like $80. The hat had an adorable flower on top, it was white, it looked so snuggly and NEW!! My daughter would be seen as the most fashionable girl leaving the hospital. Mothers would look at me with wonder. "how is she so fabulous for being a new mother?!"
Not. She shit all over the white outfit within 4 seconds of wearing it because I did not put her diaper on correctly or something. She went home in a normal onsie and some pajamas. At least THEY were new.
Okay, now on to my hospital exit ( I know this part is not about clothes but just..I have to describe it) . It basically went like this.
Girl who did not want to be at work: Do you want a wheelchair?
Me: Um...I don't know.
Girl who did not want to be at work: SIGH (LOUD)
Me: Do people usually have wheelchairs?
Girl who did not want to be at work: Sometimes
Me: Um...that is okay. I can walk.
Girl who did not want to be at work: I recommend you get in the wheelchair.
Okay I get in the wheel chair. Now, about those "leaving the hospital" pictures. There needs to be someone to take them.
No one was there.
I was just like, wheeled out to the parking lot, holding my new baby in the car seat, terrified to put her in the car, Chris was terrified too and no help at all. We were like deer in headlights, the "girl" was just like "See Ya!" when we got to our car.
No outfit. No pictures. No postpartum glow. There was also a snowstorm. i was wearing Chris's puffy jacket.
$80 down the drain for a poop stained white outfit that no one ever wore.
Okay..you would THINK that I would have learned my lesson. But no! For her first Easter, I go to Janie and Jack and purchase her first Easter dress. Again, around $80.
Now you have to remember, at this point our budget had not really been affected by having a child. Mostly everything we needed was given to us at our shower, so to me running in Janie and Jack and purchasing a dress was NBD. I'm all like, "I don't understand why EVERYONE doesn't shop here! "
I seriously said that out loud and thought it, and I am embarrassed to admit it. But I'm being totally truthful. I like, thought that was going to be our way of life. Shopping there for every little sock.
Anyway. Georgia wears the Easter dress. She is in it. It's a little big, and it looked cuter on the hanger, but again, I am such a good mom because my child is STYLISH. I pat myself on the back.
Ten minutes into Easter, she pukes. She craps. She screams. Exploding diarrhea everywhere. I am in the bathroom with her. I don't know what to do. Where do I put her? Can I put her on a floor? Do I need to find a changing table? how do I change a baby that is projectile vomiting?I put her in her pajamas.
Not a shit in sight after that.
Okay. Now let's move on to our trip to Cancun. She is 9 months old during this time.
I buy her an "airplane outfit". Ralph Lauren. I am sure you know what happens next.
The pilot is getting the cabin ready for landing. Flight attendants are collecting drinks. I hear a bubbly fart sound that sounds like it came out of the bog of eternal stench. I take Georgia and run to the bathroom. There is a line. The people let me go ahead.
OMG I was sweating my girl balls off. I'm in the airplane bathroom. If I was worried about putting her on a regular bathroom floor, what the fuck am I supposed to do in the airplane?? OMGG ALL THOSE PEOPLE IN LINE!! Georgia is screaming her face off. I rip off her shitty Ralph Lauren "airplane outfit" and ...toss it in the trash can that leads to I have no idea where. There is shit all over her. Again. I have paper towel, baby wipes, she is shitting in mid air. I am trying to clean up the bathroom. I'm yelling "I'm so sorry" to whoever is left standing in line. I wanted to D.I.E.
i come out. No one is in line.
"It sounded very stressful in there, so everyone just sat down." A lady pats my hand and says to me. I must have looked like totally horrified, because another woman said, "Don't worry, we have all been there."
Airplane Outfit Fail.
Bathing Suit Fail.
I forgot to bring her Christmas dress to mexico. So I don't even know what would have happened, but okay another $50 down the tubes.
So then we are finally past the exploding shit phase. And she is crawling. YAY!! She can wear her nice clothes!! No wait...boo. She is drooling all over everything. And her clothes are filthy because she is on the floor all the time. And learning to eat solids. Baby food all over the place.
OMG it just goes on and on.
I DID have success at her first birthday. I bought her a lovely outfit. She wore it. No mishaps. There are pictures...however I decided not to press my luck, and started shopping at thrift stores for clothes. You can get the good brands and over half price, she wore them once, and I didn't feel guilty. I was learning to budget...yes I envisioned everything to be Pottery Barn , Janie and Jack, when now my reality was becoming Target and Thrift Stores. My own shopping habit was dwindling due to finances. I was shopping for things on SALE. ...this is a big deal for me.
But still! I could not give up my need to make my child pinterest ready! Now she can walk! I can dress her up the way I want! MUHAHAHAH.
"I WANT THOMAS SHIRT!" I WANT YELLOW JAMMIES!! NOOO FANCY SHOES!! BAD DRESS! NO TIGHTS!!"
She wants to wear the same damn shirt every day. She hates all of the dresses I buy her.
She wants a Minnie Mouse Dress.
I buy her all these nice clothes, and she wants to dress like a fucking mouse.