In Your Easter Bonnet

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.

No.

"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.

FML.

Not so Fashion Forward

Remember how I told you I was feeling a little BLAH in the fashion department? Lots of slacks and blouses have been gracing my frame these days. Today as I was getting ready for work, I decided to wear something that I've neglected for whatever reason. I pull out a little dress that I don't think has EVER seen the light of day. I'm pretty sure I have never worn it.

It's a summer dress, but can be (as you see) "winterized" with the right accessories. The actual problem with the dress is that it needs a belt around the waist-but I can't find anything that doesn't look stupid.  I covered up the minor flaw with a sweater, and I think it looks cute. Here are the deetz:

Dress: LOFT

Sweater: Express

Shoes: Jessica Simpson

Tights: Guess

Bag: Express

Necklace: LOFT

Earrings: Anthropologie

Bracelet: H&M

Ring-J-Crew

Sunglasses: Wet Seal (OMG I know-they were only $2) AND I am wearing glasses in this picture because I did not have any make up on yet. I should have at least thrown on lipstick but whateves.

So I go into work, proud of my fashion accomplishment today. I think I look back to my old fun, funky- not -mom self. There is a spring in my step, and a bounce in my bootie. I'm prancing around the office in my heels, feeling like a million bucks.

All of a sudden, at 10AM on the dot, in walks a coworker of mine. She looks like a supermodel. She has hair to DIE for. She is always dressed to the nines.  I stupidly think we are in the same league fashion-wise. Naive little thing that I am, I'm all  Yeah, two fashionable chicks, talking fashion, I am so cool again.  I proceed to gush:

"I LOVE your dress!"

"Thank you. It's Gieanchy."

Um...I have no idea who the fuck that is, but I smile and nod and pretend I have TONS of Gieanchy pieces casually hanging in my closet.  I try to recover.

"Ahem, and I adore you belt. It totally makes the outfit." 

ADORE? Did I really just say ADORE?? Not to mention I'm totally jealous, because this belt would look PERFECT with my outfit.

"Isn't it beautiful? It's vintage, and I mean VINTAGE Donna Karan. It would look beautiful with your dress."

I want so badly to say "YES! IT IS THE BELT I AM LOOKING FOR! I REALLY ACTUALLY WANTED TO WEAR MY VINTAGE DONNA KARAN CORSET BELT TODAY, BUT...UM..MINE IS IN THE WASH!"

I'm so fashionably defeated. Donna Karan vs Jessica Simpson? There is no contest. She is Lady Gaga, and I am Ke$ha. My day of fashion has been ruined by the  office Carrie Bradshaw.

I am the office Barrie Cadshaw.

I sit there in my little LOFT dress, smile, and decide not to ask her about her shoes.

Anthropologie-how do i love thee. But not your price tags.

It has been brought to my attention (er...by...myself) that my wardrobe is really boring. Well, not necessarily BORING, but well, yes-kind of boring. I've turned secretary chic-lots of pencil skirts, slacks, blouses.  I was just looking in my closet for the 400th time to see if anything new appeared, and most of my more recent purchases are really basic-which is good because they will last for 10 years and always be in style. I got tired of spending money on things that are SO trendy that they go out of style the next year and I can't wear them, so I've been going on a crusade to shop for "the basics" . But now I feel like I've gone too far on to the other side, and I need to add a little flair.

I bought an AWESOME top and dress from Anthropologie. Both were originally priced over $200. The sweater I got for $39.99 ( actually the original price was $298) and the dress $49.99 ($227 originally priced)

 I rule! I will post pics later so you can see my purchases.

So anyway I started an Anthropologie wish list-I have a "HOME" wish list at Anthro, and every time one of my wishes goes on sale- I buy it, so I think I'll do the same with the clothes. They are just too expensive for me to pay full price for-but you really can't find clothes anywhere else like Anthropologie AND it will bring my wardrobe back out of the doldrums.

LOOK AT THESE! AHHHH!



Adorable! I will wait with bated breath for these items to go on sale just in time for 100 degree weather!

Screw You Guys, I'm Going Home

So before Georgia was born, I was 100% sure that I was going to get her ears pierced before she was a year old. I was TOTALLY sure. If not only for the fact that I think babies with pierced ears look cute, but also because I couldn't stand people who said things like, "When she is old enough to CHOOOOOOSE earrings, I will get her ears pierced." As if our babies have any choice in anything we are doing to them at this age.

"Excuse me baby, would you rather wear this pink Barbie getup that screams 'PAGENT!' or this non-descript green outfit that screams,  'I AM TRYING VERY HARD TO MAKE MY BABY GIRL LOOK LIKE I AM NOT TRYING HARD.' "

Your baby can't pick the outfit at this point. You are picking it for her. You are choosing to either make her wear pink, or green. See? One is not better than the other.

This was my beef with the whole "she will choose to pierce her ears" argument.  Babies can't choose anything. A mother is still choosing for her NOT to pierce her ears. Duh. Now if I heard something like, "I don't think it's appropriate for babies to have their ears pierced" well, I could get down with that. It makes sense. It is the mother's opinion, as are all facets of baby fashion. So waiting until "she can choose to pierce her hears" has always sounded dumb to me.  That particular argument made me want to pierce Georgia's ears ...like, as some kind of hair flip, flip the bird, flippity doo da or whatever to people who don't agree with me on this subject. Baby with her ears pierced ! HA! TAKE THAT!

And now? Now that Georgia is a real, live, person.Now that Georgia is 7 months old? Do I still want to pierce her ears? DO I???!!!! WHAT DO I WANT TO DO REGARDING THIS VERY IMPORTANT DECISION THAT WILL CHANGE MY DAUGHTER'S FUTURE FOREVER?????

 I want to wait until she can decide for herself.  Well I'll be damned! Put that in your pipe and smoke it TT!

I'm a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie World

So. I did not get the Bright Start Activity Jumper Pretty in Pink , or the Fisher Price Rainforest Jumperoo for Georgia. Nooosireeebob. As soon as I got to the "jumperoo section" of Target, I was all of a sudden in some kind of  weird mommy-mode. Think of Frankenstein. Or Mr. Hyde.  I twitched three times, and all of a sudden I was like 'MUST...FIND...BIGGEST... JUMPEROO, WHAT-IF-HER-NON-EXISTANT-BABY-FRIENDS-COME-OVER-AND-LAUGH-AT-THE-LITTLE-PINK-JUMPEROO? MUST...GET....BIGGEST....ONE. 

Yeah, super gay. But anyway we picked the baby Einstein Musical Motion Activity Jumper. Not the most expensive one or anything. It was around $90, but it seriously looked like the most fun out of all the jumperoos! OMG-am I really having this conversation with you?  Ugh. Yeah, anyway it was straight out of babies-on-acid or something (does that make me sound cooler?). It was so craaaazy looking. I quickly got over the decor issues, and decided that this was the perfect one for Miss Thang.  Here is a picture of all of my baby shit in my living room. That is my sweet nephew Jules testing out the jumperoo for Georgia.



Please excuse this photo of me. I look horriffic.

AAAAALL that stuff is Georgia's. OMG how did babies SURVIVE in the 70's ( I say 70's because that is when I was born) without this crap?

No wonder I am so mentally messed up. I didn't have a Baby Einstein Musical Motion Activity Jumper! GOD MOM!  You must not love me or something. You probably let me play with knives! Just kidding.I know she didn't let me play with knives. I was barely allowed to touch anything. I know for a fact I wasn't allowed to use those little plastic scissors when I was in kindergarten. We ( Jill and I) were going for our kindergarten orientation or whatever, and the principal was like, "Okay twinnies, you can go play arts and crafts while I talk to your parents."  Jill and I look at the arts and crafts center, look back at the principal and say in stereo, "We're not allowed to play with scissors."

OKAAAAAAY. Losers. We also hated baby dolls because we were jealous of them. We did like regular dolls though. Just not babies. I loved my Annie doll...and my Annie wig. I would seriously wear the big, red Annie afro outside, and sing and shit and try to get the neighborhood kids to be in my musicals. They were all like, "um, no way freak." Humm..and we always liked Barbie.

I really don't have a problem with Barbie. She is fit, and so what if she has a boob job? And really, as a child I never even though twice about her figure when I played with her. I thought she was pretty, her best friend was Teresa, and she had a kid sis named Skipper (whose boobs were NOT big) and a cool pink car. And a horse. And a hott boyfriend.  Seems fun to me!

I know that as a mother to a little girl, it is my responsibility to teach her not to be obsessed with looks, and pink, and shit like that. There are all kinds of articles out these days about how if your daughter likes princesses as a little girl, she is TOTALLY going to be working the poles as a young woman so STAY AWAY FROM PINK!

Here is my thought on this. When somebody starts telling our little boys that they can't like blue, to stop playing football and toy trucks, and to make them go to ballet class instead of soccer-then I'll listen to these stupid people and their hatred for Barbie. But until the  little boy/girl gender  argument is equal...blah...sorry. I have ZERO interest.

There is nothing wrong with being interested in fashion, hair and make up. Do I want that to be Georgia's only source of happiness? No, absolutely not. But I don't find it necessary to cut it out of her life either.  Fashion is fun!  And seriously, Barbie is smart AND fashionable. She is a pediatrician for God's sake! SHE IS HELPING CHILDREN! LOOK!



If  Georgia comes to me one day and says, "Mom, I want to paint my room black, pierce my nose. And oh by the way, this is my new girlfriend, Jane,"  I will buy black paint for her room, and invite Jane over for dinner.  I might tell her  that the nose ring looks stupid, depending on the size and everything, but she can still pierce it if she wants.  I do not expect her to be the most popular-pagent star-with-the-quarterback -boyfriend type of gal.  But also, if she likes Barbie, I am not going to make a big stink about it. I liked Barbie.  And just because you like pink and barbie  and cheerleading doesn't mean you are automatically a vapid bitch.And just because you like fashion doesn't mean you are stupid. I've known some really ugly people who were NOT into fashion at all who were really stupid.  And I've known some really mean girls who played other sports besides cheerleading. And of course, I have known girls who like pink and who are vapid and bitchy.

Spoiled, bratty, bitch, stripper comes in all shapes, dolls, colors, and sports. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

blah blah blah bitch moan pregnant blah blah blah

I've  recieved a few emails from friends asking me to post a new blog ASAP. How nice! So, in honor of YOU, yes YOU, I am posting today.

Honestly, I haven't felt like writing because I know whatever I write is going to just be one big bitch-fest. I'm so O-V-E-R being pregnant. Yeah-I know my pregnancy hasn't been that bad. I've only  weigh about 119. But on me that's a LOT. I had a ridiculously stupid breakdown in Anthropologie today. I  started crying because everyone in there was cute wearing cute clothes, and I wear the same 5 fucking maternity outfits every week. I HAAATE it so much. I try to mix and match and wear cute accessories, but really I just despise maternity clothes and I hate how my body looks.  I've pretty much refused to let Chris see my naked pregnant bod. It isn't gross or anything, I guess. I don't have stretch marks or cottage cheese thighs/ass, but I just feel frumpy. I always feel off-balance, and I run into tables and things all the time because I sometimes forget how much bigger I am.  I miss my Victoria's Secret stuff. I am going to burn this maternity shit as soon as I have my baby. Who I love-don't get me wrong.  I'm totally blown away by the connection I have with this little thing, and she's what keeps me going.  Yes, I feel that delivering her safely into the world and having her be happy and healthy is way more important that the fact that I hate being fat.  But a girl is allowed to complain, right?

See-I told you .You didn't want me to write anything.

I tip my hat to you

Have you ever been in a conversation with someone, and you thought you looked a certain way, but then realized you didn't? I know that makes absolutely nooo sense so I'll describe what just happened to me.

I'm walking Buckley, and I pass by this new little store in my neighborhood. There is a sign in the window that says "Boutique" and they have a bunch of cute second-hand clothes in the window, a super cute retro leather jacket, artwork, jewlrey...things like that. So I decide to go in and see what it's all about. Now when I went in I totally forgot that I had changed out of my work clothes before I took Buckley on his walk. So in my brain, I'm still looking cute.  I have on my mature, yet sassy black cap that screams "urban chic, bitch", funky earrings from BCBG, and my cute gray leggings that match (just enough "go with", but look not too matchy matchy) my purple and gray  jacket.    I'm talking art and fashion with this guy, I'm all like  "Yeah, he probably thinks I'm a super cool city chick."  I'm telling him that I have some stuff that I don't wear anymore and I'll bring it by ( Like- he should be SO LUCKY that I, Teresa Kelly, fashionista extraordinaire will do him a favor and allow him to sell some of my awesome clothing) LOOK HOW FASHIONABLE I AM WHILE PREGNANT!

He gives me his card, we say our goodbyes, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I walk out.

I did not look anything like I thought I looked. First of all, I wasn't wearing my cool city girl black hat. I was wearing my fucking pink and red Dr. Suesse  Cindy Lou Who looking thermal hat. No funky earrings. I WAS, however, wearing my purple and gray jacket, but I also forgot I changed into my pre pregnancy bubble gum pink BEBE sweatpants that look like they are going to bust open if I so much as fart because the are an XXS and I am not really and XXS these days. Not to mention I KNOW I have a serious panty line, in addition to the fact that  the words BEBE are written across my across my ass with only SOME of the pink and silver "rhinestones" ( really, I bought these?) still in place.

How did I forget I got changed? Do you know what it's like talking to someone in a pink Dr. Seusse hat, when you think you have on a hip, cool person city hat? DO YOU? It's weird. Very weird.

Now I’m feelin so fly like a G6 Like a G6, Like a G6

So, in my last post I mentioned the new vocab words that are going to become regulars in my new lifestyle. Boppy (ie?), binky, bottles, poop-It's a whole new world of vocabulary that I have to get used to! There are two other important words that I forgot to mention that I have become friends with since becoming pregnant. Please everyone, let me introduce you to my two new friends SALE and CHEAP.

First of all, I'm not saying that I only shop at Neiman Marcus. In fact, I maybe buy something from there once a year. If I COULD afford it, I would totally be there every living second of the day, rolling around in designer merchandise shouting at the top of my lungs to my personal shopper "That one!" " And that one!" "And THAT one!" Demanding that said personal shopper bring me every single size 7 Louboutin, while feeding me strawberries and popping champagne. "Crack the Dom Pérignon bitches!"

Uh...what? Where was I?

Oh yes-so due to finances I am usually an average/middle of the road kind of retail kind of gal. I regularly frequent Bebe, Athropologie, Steve Madden, Express and BCBG. $150 shoes are a norm in my closet. Nothing too fancy But! Since becoming pregnant-I've started looking elsewhere to buy clothes. Well, kind of. Since I'm buying maternity clothes, obviously I can't go get some kind of size double zero slut skirt from Bebe. I have been going to Pea in the Pod and Gap Maternity which are sort of on the pricey side...Pea in the Pod more than Gap. The big thing is, I've discovered something called "The Sale Rack" OOOOOOO! AHHHHHH! Sale rack! I've discovered you can find cute things on the sale rack, you just kind of have to dig around. I mean, yes I do have two or three maternity shirts that were $60, and I am going to buy at least one good pair of maternity jeans that I LOVE that are $80,but other than that everything has been under $50! I rule! AND I got a really cute maternity dress from....TARGET! I think the only clothes I've ever got from target were my "hiking clothes" I bought for my honeymoon. The dress I got was super cute and comfy, and I am going back for some more maternity stuff this weekend. Who knew?

Also, shoes have been an issue. As a pregnant woman, the pairs and pairs of four inch heels covering my closet floor were just not going to do. I thought some flat boots would be good to wear with leggings while preggers. But, as we are socking money away, I did not think it was a good idea to spend $200 per pair of  boots. I needed a black pair and a brown pair and a grey pair...because the wrong color boot can make your outfit look so dumb. (really really dumb). So one evening, while strolling around the Plymouth Meeting Mall, I walk by Wet Seal.

Do I dare? Do I dare go into Wet Seal? It was my FAVORITE store in High School ( formerly called Contempo Casuals for those of you who are not old dinosaurs). I peeked in. The music was stupid and loud, it was the first time I heard that G6 song, and I still don't know what the hell at G6 is but anyway. Yes, everyone in there looked like Snookie or some low rent version of Lady Gaga. Me and my pregnant self quickly run back to the "shoe" section. It's like, all of the shoes are sitting on a rack tied together by a plastic thingy. SOOOO cheap looking. Anway-little brown boots on sale for $25 (from $40) Cool! Sweet! Let me get these and get the F out of here! I go to the register, and I am greeted by Bubbles McGee. "DID YOU FIND EVERYTHING YOU WERE LOOKING FOR?" She screams at me over the stupid G6 song. "Yes, thank you" I say. "THE BOOTS ARE BUY ONE, GET ONE FOR A PENNY!" Um, what?? A penny? "YES, A PENNY!" Okaaaay. I go back over to the "boots" and see one pair of black tall flat boots. Alrighty then. Penny boots. I go back over to the register where I see Bai Ling's twin holding my brown boots. She then takes my black boots out of my hand. "These are sooo gorgeous" she says seriously. Um..wtf lady. These are not gorgeous shoes. They are efficient, black, cost one cent, and will do the job during my pregnancy. I was sooo embarrassed to even be in there with these people. I paid my bill of $25.01 plus tax and ran out like a G6.

Good Mommy! Buying ugly sale shoes so your daughter can have a Neiman Marucs baby blanket.