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What I Wore

What I Wore Sunday, November 17, 2013

What I Wore Sunday, November 17, 2013

Eight years ago, I didn’t really have a style. I mean, other than the obvious fact that eight years ago today I was rocking a hospital gown.

Mom and Dad

Nice.

Besides that forcible non-fashion that followed nine months of maternity wear, I didn’t really know how to dress. Not for my body type, not for my lifestyle, not for my likes in texture and color. I had ideas of how I might like to dress, and they showed up here and there in special occasion outfits like my wedding shower, a friend’s wedding shower, and so on. But for the normal day-to-day, I didn’t know what I wanted to wear or, if I did, I didn’t know how to pull it off.

lia sophia jewelry, Cato sweater and dress

I’m not saying that becoming a mother made my fashion. It didn’t directly change how I dressed or presented myself to the world, other than I occasionally went out in public looking bedraggled because, well, I was bedraggled. Children, especially babies, have a literal way of sucking the life right out of you, but you still have to run to the store in order to buy food to keep the family alive. I will not apologize for the yoga pants and spitup shirts of days gone by nor will I apologize for the yoga pants and pullover I wore while shopping yesterday. I had just ran for the first time since my foot injury, but needed to go out and grab some last minute stuff for BigBrother’s birthday today.

lia sophia jewelry, Cato dress

However, being a mother has shaped the way I see myself, and not really in many very negative ways.

Yes, I weigh more than I did before any of my babies came to be. I also have some lovely curves that I attribute to their pregnancies. I also have some killer runner’s legs now. You’ll hear no complaints from me on any of these things. Mainly, I see myself frequently as my boys see me: as their beautiful Mommy.

That’s enough for me, for now, for maybe always.

Happy Birthday, BB!

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What I Wore

What I Wore Sunday, November 10, 2013

WIWSunday, November 10, 2013

I disappointed myself today.

My husband has been on this kick about the Big Things he wants to teach our sons, the important things that we kind of overlook as important sometimes. Life’s little lessons that aren’t really so little. He wants to present them in age appropriate bites of knowledge, so at this point, it would be things like, “Be brave.”

Not Brave

I wasn’t brave today.

BOOT!

I’m not good at confrontation, even when I know what is being said or done is wrong. I second guess myself. I doubt whether I should be involved, step forward, if it’s my place stick up for someone else. It’s part of my personality though; I like to think things through — often to the point of overthinking — before doing something. While one might argue that course of action is better than impulsivity, it sometimes results in a lack of doing anything. At all. That’s not good either. I struggle to find that middle ground.

No Sweater

My lack of action this morning bothered me all day. I took a nap, something I rarely do, and woke up with the issue in my head and on my heart. I figured that functioned as some kind of sign, so I made some calls and put wheels in motion to rectify the situation at hand. I feel upset that I didn’t step in right away, especially as our Pastor’s sermon focused on taking care of others.

I hope to add to the conversation with our sons about being brave after the lessons I learned today. Sometimes being brave means taking time to think it through, to do a thorough gut-check and make sure that you’re following the right course of action. Sometimes being brave means thinking twice. Sometimes being brave means making a phone call even when you just want to ignore what happened.

Sometimes being brave means stepping forward when you just want to sit back.

Be brave.