School has been in session for two weeks and I have yet to write a recap, like a real mom blogger would. So here is the recap your are going to get, right in the middle of another recap. Whatever, it's working for now.
We are back to school. Caitlin is loving third grade and I'm trying to wrap my brain around having a third grader. We are treading lightly on the fashion police this year and I've let her pick out her own outfits as evidenced by the picture below. My fight is gone and her ass is covered. I consider that a win/win. Plus on the mornings where we are not fighting about clothes, we are talking about books or watching Victorious on Teen nick and laughing at the ridiculousness of the show. That time wither her, is more important to me than arguing about pattern mixing and wedges verses flats. Trust me.
Disclaimer: The second day of school outfits were coordinated by the wearer.
This mother takes no fashion responsibility whatsoever.
As you can see these first day outfits are much more in line with "fashion police" guidelines.
However I'm going to continue to say nothing, since I like my mornings happy and pleasant.
Mac started kindergarten with much fanfare, but only from her parents. We made a big deal out of "the baby" going to school. Kindergarten seemed like years away, and now that it is upon us, I realize it's all down hill from here. On the first day she was a little nervous, and I did my best to down play that. She did really good until we had to say goodbye and then she cried a little. She made the face she makes when she is trying to be brave not cry. But the tears spilled over and my eyes teared up too. Not because I was sad, but because I knew what those tears meant. She knew she was going to miss mom, and I knew that I was going to miss my little shadow that I've had these past few years while big sister was in school. It's funny how you try and down play a milestone, knowing that as they grow older the milestones are fewer and farther between.
So far so good if you ignore the cold that Mac brought home and the disaster about spirit shirts that first week. For the record, why have spirit shirts at all? Is this just another test for harried mothers who will forget until the night before? I don't know about you, but I'm on a every two weeks laundry schedule and spirit shirts rarely fit in.
I've fallen in love with running again. I'll be honest, when I'm running I hate it. In school I was never a runner. Actually I've never much loved exercise in general, but the rumours are true. Running is the best stress reliever. There is something about pounding the pavement and letting go of all your worries while you run for your life. I blame my neighbor, but really I'd go without her these days. It makes me feel good about myself, even on the days my jeans are tighter than the last time I put them on.
Post 2 mile run. This is my, "I can't feel my legs" smile.
I made a promise to myself that I would write more this summer. I failed. I just wanted to put that out there. There are few reasons why I gave myself writers block this summer, but only one sticks out the most. There was a blog post I read by a popular blogger with a gazillion followers. She wrote that many readers hate recaps that use Instagram photos because if they follow you on Instagram then they have already seen them. Touche. In that moment, I realized that in my effort to write more this summer, I was planning on picking one Instagram picture a day to write about. Well how boring for you, am I right? This really sidelined me, and I felt at a loss for inspiration, but also stifled. Now I just feel dumb, because who cares? Some of my Instagram pictures tell a longer story than Instagram will allow. Sometimes I get re inspired when I save the pictures to my computer and think that there is more to the story. Why did I let this get to me? Who knows. I've had a lot of excuses this summer, because I always want to have engaging content. It took me the better part of a month to realize that I really do write for myself. And if I want to regram, overgram, or Instagram, then you all will have to bare with me until I have something better to talk about.
I could write an entire blog post on things that I post on Instagram that I think are funny.
So instead of worry that I'm going to bore you, I'm going to post them anyway.
I'm going back to Pier 1 on Tuesday. Am I crazy? A little. My journey with the local bridal shop has come to an end. To be honest, it was over before it started. I did my best to hang in there, but there were a number of things I couldn't ignore, one of them being the feeling in my gut that this was not the place for me. I feel like I've lived or violated all the cliches this summer, but that's not the worst thing in the world. I never want to be a walking cliche, but sometimes the lessons are well meaning. I did learn a lot, about myself, about the kind of business I want to be in, where I thrive as an associate and as a manager. I'm not going to be a manager when I return to Pier 1, just a part time associate, and typing that feels really good. I've missed my team of people, but I also missed being really good at a job. I missed being given the opportunity to thrive. So I asked to go back and I start Tuesday. The best part, besides the part time schedule, I get to wear jeans. Jeans. Don't worry, I"ll be sure to take a selfie in my apron.
And here is a selfie. Because why not?
This blog. I've ignored this blog for two weeks. With good reason. Last summer I missed so much of my life. My kids life. My husbands life. I was so bitter about all the things I was missing and I spent time away from them not just at work, but also writing. Most of that writing was forced. A lot of that writing was terrible because it was forced. This summer and the beginning of school I took the time I needed. I took the time I wanted. I spent time totally immersed in motherhood. I tried to keep up some housework which is really rare for me. I made lunches the night before and cleaned out closets. I planned for meals and set a grocery budget. I read like eleven books this summer, two of them with my girls. I sat around and watched TV with the Hubbs and thoroughly enjoyed myself. So the writing could wait. The writing had to wait. Honestly there wasn't anything I wanted to write about that was more important that just living. And that feels really good to type. Some days I'm a writer, some days I'm a wife, some days I'm a mother, but most days I'm just a human who enjoys the finer things in life. Like Instagram for example.