So I’ll be super honest here: I have not been feeling inspired to get dressed these days. Retro maternity style is hard to figure out, especially considering true vintage maternity style in my preferred era was… wearing a tent. And I don’t really want to wear a tent.
But then a few days ago, a friend who knows I love vintage gave me an entire lot of 60’s-80’s vintage her mom was giving away, including jewelry and purses and wigs (hey hey!) and as I mourned the fact that none of the vintage clothing would fit me, I wondered… why am I not dressing like the vintage woman I want to be? I’ve gotten stuck in the rut of putting a modern spin on my retro wear just to feel more comfortable in public, but really I want to just go full-on vintage/retro. I’m so inspired by Ashley and her gorgeous wardrobe, Skye and her all-out vintage wears, and most recently (thanks to Skye) Nora Finds. There’s no reason I can’t imitate those looks while pregnant.
So, ignoring the fact that I am pregnant as heck (UNDER A MONTH TO GO WHAT?), it’s hot out, and about five minutes after I started taking pictures a crew of road workers parked themselves and their stop sign right down our driveway, in clear sight of me and my photography shenanigans, I decided to put together as retro an outfit as I could and just go for it.
I actually started out thinking this would be a very retro-nerdy look (glasses), but ended up loving the entire vibe. It’s definitely not as glam as Ashley or Nora, nor as quirky as Skye, but it’s a step, and it feels very “me.” With a victory roll and bright lips. I think part of my block as far as style went was that I had not been allowing myself to imagine a character as I got dressed. Personally, if I don’t feel like there’s a fictional character behind the outfit, or a blatant era evoked, or an overall vibe given off, I’m not invested and it doesn’t feel right. So, while I am 100% wearing this and would wear this anywhere, the victory roll and red lips and vintage clutch gave it that character I wanted it to have to really feel like a style. Instead of a simple collar and flowery skirt, it’s elevated to librarian of the 40’s, or schoolteacher, or wartime era wife waiting for her husband to return home. With a very pregnant belly. That’s what I want my style to do — evoke stories. Not just my own, but many. Perhaps that’s part of the writer in me talking.
But let’s switch gears and just talk about this clutch for a second.
It was in the lot of vintage given to me, and can I just say… swoon? Between this clutch and the many pairs of vintage clip on earrings she gave me, I’m in heaven! Thank goodness jewelry and purses always fit, right? I can’t wait to list the clothing on Etsy, though; you will die over how gorgeous all of it is, and she was kind enough to say if it didn’t fit, I could sell it. So keep your eye on my shop, because really fantastic vintage is coming! (A 1970’s goddess gown! A gorgeous wedding dress! The most 1970’s bellbottoms you will ever see! Psychadelic skirts!) So on this Wednesday, which has maintained my opinion that Wednesdays and not Mondays are the worst day of the week, I am consoling myself to the fact that I will never fit into a vintage size 2 dress with the fact that I now have a considerably large collection of vintage jewelry to add to my outfits.
I am also consoling myself with an Otter Pop. Because pretty much any day can be made better with an Otter Pop. (Or freezer pop, or whatever you call them…)
What do you want to evoke when you get dressed? A style? A story? Yourself? Something else? Do you aim to get reactions when you wear whatever you wear, or do you just dress the way you dress because you love it?
I hope you are all having a good Wednesday! I’m off to control some toddler chaos.
Today was shaping up to be one of those days. It started just after breakfast, but I felt it as soon as I woke up. It was going to be one of those days when you just know you won’t get through the day without at least one emotional breakdown.
I had wondered if it would be. Last night was his first night with a “broken” pacifier, his first night of trial with the tip cut off so that it no longer worked. I expected a fight, yet all we got was a few minutes of his attempts to make the binky work, then a nonchalant tossing it aside every time he sucked for a moment and it didn’t serve its purpose. He went to sleep with barely a peep, and only woke up once for a brief minute in the night.
But then the morning came. He was awake 45 minutes before his normal wake up time. I was awake an hour before mine, tense and waiting as if my body knew preternaturally that today would be that day. The first day after two weekdays of having daddy home sick, after a long weekend of heat and my own sickness and moving, after having to take care of the toddler nearly all by myself for 48 hours while ensuring that my husband didn’t dehydrate himself for fear of throwing up again. While 34 weeks pregnant, in the heat, attempting to break the toddler of his pacifier.
I got him out of bed 30 minutes earlier than usual, and breakfast went off without a hitch. Too easily, perhaps; I got to drink a cup of coffee sitting down for once, before it went cold. I got to eat an entire bowl of cereal without having to share half of it. Asa ate his Cheerios and banana with gusto, not once attempting to tip his bowl over or toss food to the floor.
He got down to play with toys, I sat down to start up my usual morning routine — usually done prior to his being awake — of reading a few blogs and checking social media, planning the day out, and especially thinking about the weekend plans.
And that’s when it started.
I was sitting, he wanted up. And down, and up again. And up more. And to hit the keys, or to play with my phone, or to tap the computer with the plastic spoon he’d saved from breakfast. And down again. And up again. All intermittently punctuated by whines and yawns.
There was so much else that I needed to do today — organize our weekend garage sale pile, clean the toilet, unpack and clean the rest of our bedroom, fold the laundry… the list went on — that I clung to my one sacred bit of morning routine as if it were the thread that would hold this day together. Too insistently. After another round of ups and downs, I finally told him that no, he needed to stay down for a few minutes. Cue crying and wandering around the house like a lost child, cranky only an hour and a half after waking up.
Why are you not content to play with your toys as usual? I thought desperately. I just need five minutes. Five minutes to wake up, to gear up for the day, to brace myself for whatever was coming. But, to no avail. After a minute of attempting and failing to stick to my morning routine, I decided to get away from the computer and see if that helped.
It didn’t. I wondered if, as is often true, he just needed a little time in his crib with his blankets to snuggle, so I put him down for a short quiet time, and decided to take a few late-term maternity shots of myself to remember these last few weeks by.
But before I was even three shots in, he decided he’d had enough of his quiet time and desperately needed up. Since I had everything set up, I thought maybe a few shots with him would still work. I want to capture his last moments as an only child, too, to freeze these precious weeks in time when I can give my all to him.
Everything seemed to look up as we stood and sat on the floor and played and he became fascinated with the beeping of the timer on the camera. And then when I was done, I put away the tripod and kept the camera out, hoping to get a few pictures of just him. This precious little boy who is growing up and becoming more than just that cute, chubby baby we’ve known for the past 18 months. I will miss having just him, even as I am looking forward to having two babies in the house.
But then the culmination of the morning came to pass. He started stepping on my leg, trying to get higher up the windowsill, to look out and see what was going on, and terrible thoughts flashed through my head. Him slipping from my leg and smashing his lips or chin or nose on the windowsill, bleeding everywhere, knocking out his teeth, bruising his face. Since I’ve been pregnant, these daytime nightmares come quickly and vividly and are hard to shake off.
So I told him no, and I moved my leg away from the window. But as is the case with many things for him, he thought it was a game, and began to deliberately step on my leg despite my repeatedly saying no and removing his foot, holding his leg down so that he could not continue the action. Still, he grinned, and tried again.
And in a quick second I spanked his (pants-less) leg, my mind still caught in what could happen, and said possibly too loudly and shortly “Stop. Mama said no!”
The shock that passed over his face followed by the inevitable cries of hurt feelings and reaction to the sting of a spanking undid me. It was not a hard spank, nor an angry one, and I knew that allowing him to make me laugh even as he disobeyed me would have been wrong. But there is nothing harder than knowing that you are the source of your child’s tears, no matter how right your actions or discipline are. Nothing harder than watching them cry because of what you needed to do as a parent.
He cried, and turned away from me, and that’s when I sobbed. Loudly, brokenly, so hard that his tears were interrupted and he stared at me with the long, raw, honest gaze of a child too young to understand an adult’s need to cover up emotions. He sat in my lap and I hugged him, unable to stop crying, and for a minute we both shed tears. But his confusion won over, and he again pierced through me with that clear, worried gaze, and he did not look away.
So I told him how I was feeling. I told him that today would be hard, and that I was sorry, and that I was so tired. I told him that I loved him, and that I needed him to be good today. I gave him a kiss, and as I started to calm down he grabbed my hands and brought them up to my face, squishing my cheeks as if that might make me feel better.
And we laughed. Me with tears and snot and, I realized a few seconds later, blood running down my face — thanks to pregnancy for the bloody nose — him with the relief of a naive child who feels his duty is done.
I gave up my hopes of today being organized or productive. We unrepentantly ate handfuls of blueberries, watched cartoons, snacked on cinnamon bagels, and played in the one living room chair we own. I let him run around the house and make a mess of his toys while I folded laundry, and didn’t care if the dishes sat neglected in the sink and the toilet ran as dirty as ever.
Because today he needs me. He needs to sit in my lap, to cuddle, to be held and told that he is loved. He needs to play with me, to make me laugh, to have me make him laugh. He needs to soak in all of the attention I can give him and more than that, he wants me. He wants his mama to play, to laugh, to love, to cuddle. More than I need to clean or organize or cook. More than I need my own time to waste away on mindless clicking.
More than anything, today he just needs me.
And it’s a hard thing to admit that a small part of me wishes he didn’t, so that I could do what my mind’s agenda has set up for me today, but a bigger part of me has been realizing that I will regret passing up these opportunities. When he wants to play and he wants to cuddle. Someday he’ll be too big for that.
So despite the workload I know is coming over this weekend that might be made a little harder if I don’t start preparing today, I am giving up today’s plans in favor of making memories with my baby. I am taking to heart what young mothers often balk at hearing from older women whose children are grown and gone. “Enjoy every moment. Enjoy your babies.” I understand what they mean now, as the weeks quickly pass and the date of our second child’s birth speeds toward us with inevitability.
Make the time to enjoy them. It’s not a condemning thing, that us young mothers must enjoy our little ones as they scream and cry, as the rough days pass through us and leave us limp and emotionally drained. It’s a freeing thing. Let go of the other plans. Let go of yourself. Let go of the to-do list you tacked to the fridge that is full of things that will remain throughout your life unchanged. There will always be laundry to fold, dishes to wash, toilets to clean, things to organize. But our babies will not always be babies. And someday we will look back for memories of these young years.
I would rather have memories of a happy, laughing child than a perfect kitchen and neatly organized house. Today I am letting go of everything I thought I needed to do, and I am doing what matters most: making sure he knows he is loved. With excess and abandon and a fierceness unlike any other love he will know. Because even if the rest of today is a complete disaster, at least he will know one thing: his mama loves him.
And if he knows that, then today will have been a success.
Well, hello! It’s my first ever outfit shot at our new house, and I apologize in advance that these pictures aren’t completely in focus (or is it just my photographer eye that is annoyed by that?) because its been two weeks since I’ve done ANY pictures (or, let’s face it, even gotten dressed in something cute) and I’m not exactly sure when our duplex neighbor is home/awake, so I was feeling a bit self-conscious. But I thought I’d at least try to have a bit of style in these last few weeks of being pregnant. I am getting to the point where having good maternity style is getting almost too hard to make an effort. It’s been hot, I’m 34 weeks (today!), the chubby one (aka Asa) runs around like crazy, and I am just plain tired. I am really, really looking forward to just having this baby already and at least having a somewhat normal body again.
It’s really interesting to me to compare my maternity style from this pregnancy to my maternity style from my first pregnancy (here my first pregnancy’s 34 week outfits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5); I definitely had more energy (no toddler, wasn’t hot through my biggest months) the first time around, which is a given, and I feel like I was a bit more creative. Although it’s always easier for me to be creative with my style when it’s cooler out — more ways to layer and all. Plus, my wardrobe is getting very, very thin. Nothing fits any more.
I am really excited about the property around this duplex, though. There are several places I already know I’ll be taking pictures, plus the house itself is a nice color and the garage door is a different color, and I’m fairly sure the neighbor works swing shift and sleeps most of the day. His blinds are always closed and I’ve only ever seen him twice, plus he got home around midnight one night (and he looks to be in his 60’s, so I know it wasn’t a party). Once I’ve established for certain that he probably won’t see me in the driveway, I’ll feel more confident about pictures there.
Skirt, thrifted | top, Target | belt, came with this skirt, and shoes, Modcloth
But I am also excited about the other opportunities I have here; blogging more about life, motherhood, budgeting, cooking, and all that fun stuff! This house has pretty decent lighting (a big sliding glass door in the dining room, a big front window in the living room) which makes it easier for me to photograph inside, and I’m so excited about that! You know you’re a photographer/blogger when the first requirement of a rental is big windows for light. Ha!
I am off to read some blogs, or maybe take a nap, and probably most definitely eat some watermelon (or maybe a freezer pop. We’ll see. The iciness!). I hope you’ve all had a great week! Happy Friday!
Hello! First of all, while I was gone Jaclyn over at Beauty and the Binky posted a little motherhood interview featuring me, as part of her Motherhood from Every Angle series! It was so fun to participate and share the mom-life part of me more. You can see it here.
It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve posted anything (because actually, the last outfit photos you saw were from July 1st, which was over two weeks ago), but here we are finally settling in to our new house! Which obviously just means we finally got internet. Because we don’t have living room furniture yet, except for a Papasan chair, and the bedrooms are still crazy because… we lack dressers and shelves for all of our stuff.
But we’re getting there! I wanted to share the parts of the house that I have been able to finish up with unpacking and decorating. And while they’re still all works in progress decoration-wise (eventual home decoration goals, right here), I love the way our little space is coming together!
Last night I handpainted a wood board that my husband brought home from work so that we have a little name sign outside our door. We live in a duplex, and while it’s fairly obvious which side we live in just from our cars, I wanted to have something signifying that we live here! Because the duplexes aren’t labeled A and B (as they are in our mailboxes) so should our cars not be there, we want people to know which side is ours. And also, I love family name signs, so… we needed one.
My favorite part of the house, probably because it’s finished so far as decorations and furniture, is the dining room/kitchen area. Our living room will be fantastic once we get a couch and some bookcases and a good lamp, because we have a working brick fireplace that I am SO excited about, and a really great huge mirror above the mantle. But right now it’s just a big empty space with 12 boxes full of books, a blanket chest, and a papasan chair in the corner. Not exactly homey when you walk in.
But I love our simple little dining room table, especially with my grandma’s table runner and my mother-in-law’s flowers on it, and I love my china cabinet/buffet (which was my grandma’s) with its display of my slowly growing collection of salt-and-pepper shakers, and my amalgamation of cookbooks (I have more, they’re just not out).
And, while the kitchen is not a lot to look at yet, I love the little things that signify it’s ours. The plants in the window (basil and an unidentified house plant someone gave us at our first house), my set of utensils and my mixer on the counter, my dishes, Asa’s first art on the fridge. It’s amazing how much more you appreciate the little things about having your own place after a year and a half of living with other people in homes that are not yours.
I hope you have all been having a great July so far! I can’t wait to update the house as we get more settled in, and start sharing home life tidbits as well as my usual fashion posts! And also, I can’t wait to share my first style post from this house. There are some great areas to shoot outfits here!