Because Monday...

This post is the child of laziness and whatever the opposite of motivation turns out to be. I've been enjoying my days off to their fullest extent, sometimes staying in my pajamas way past an acceptable afternoon hour. I've been watching everything in my DVR. Twice (like the Mindy Project season finale. Twice). I've been letting my kids do whatever their hearts desire, including eating Cheetos for breakfast and starburst for dinner. They also play with every toy they own while I have completely lost myself in two books in less than a week. Book two is over five hundred pages, so you can see pulling myself away to actually write something hasn't been easy. But the crazy part... When you read a really good book, it inspires you to do some really good writing. So it's on the horizon friends, I can feel it. But since laziness and hindrance (I did a quick Google search for the opposite of motivation) had a baby that is this post, you get a nice photo dump of what I've been up to when I'm not lost in a book or watching True Blood.

Because...

My gorgeously photogenic daughter who will smile on demand and ask for nothing in return. Sure we are in the drive thru at McDonald's so this smile might be about the food. I'll take it anyway.

The flip side to that is that Mac could give two effs about your selfies and or Happy Meals.

Olive pants that I didn't realize I loved until January. Sorry that you spent four years in my closet just hanging out. I'll make it up to you.

Books that I can't afford at the moment, but thanks to Apple and iPhone I can take pictures of all the books and then remember to buy them when I need something to read. Tell me I'm not the only person who does this.

Target shenanigans. Icees and cookies will do that to the tiny humans. All I asked was that they smile pretty for the camera. Jokes on me.

 Again. It's like we aren't even trying anymore...

But wait, this one isn't really staged. They are actually this excited about grocery shopping after seven pm at Walmart. Because Fresno is hot and grocery shopping is awful, and when you have to grocery shop when it's 109 outside, disaster happens. So we wait and go right before the sun goes down. Plus everyone knows McDonald's ice cream cones taste best after eight pm.

 Because this man knows the way into my heart. He makes everything an adventure. 

Because, "Mommy, I have a beard". Obviously.

Yes. The Hubbs asks for pictures after every wax appointment. And that picture of Grumpy Cat was my attempt at a "before" shot. I hope you all get that joke...

I have to be at work every Friday at six am. So this sums up every Friday morning.

We got a night out with friends to see 22 Jump Street. I'm just going to say that Ice Cube is the best damn thing about that movie. And that's saying a lot since Channing Tatum is in it too.

Because the Hubbs said that no "moos" aka maxi skirts were allowed on date night. He wanted me to wear something that showed off my legs, a common request of his. So I picked out jean shorts and this fabulous tank top from Target. Be careful what you wish for... Your wife may show up in a tank top covered in cats.

It's the most wonderful time of the year... I'm the biggest nerd, but this section of Target smells like flowers and unicorns and Butterbeer. 

My Dad had a birthday and I took a picture of my parents after dinner. Let's discuss these amazing people. One, my Dad is wearing a shirt that says, "Feeling Dirty". Two, the shirt was a gift from my Husband when he was my boyfriend after his Fraternity Mud Volleyball game. Three, my mom has lost thirty pounds since her surgery in May and is feeling better every day. Four, I posted this on Facebook and my Dad got so many birthday wishes from my friends and his. He doesn't even have a Facebook... He's way too cool for that. 

I took a bitch quiz on Facebook. Let's just say I passed.

Taking Stock {seven-one-fourteen}

I've seen this post on many of my favorite blogs, and honestly, for lack of inspiration I needed some direction. Writing has been really hard for me lately. Bringing myself to the computer has been challenging. Today I couldn't think of a thing to write about, but this kind of a post forces you to do the thinking. Guess what? It totally helped. Now I'm not saying I'm now inspired to write the great American novel, but I've found a way out of my rut. Try it out, and see if it brings you some inspiration. 

gratuitous selfie

Making: 

Jam. Yes, jam. Because I bought strawberries at Costco and they were over ripe to begin with so thanks to Pinterest, it’s really easy to make jam with your kids.

Cooking:

Dinner. Maybe. It’s 105 outside and turning on the oven seems like a really bad idea...

Drinking:

Lots and lots of water. Because I hear it’s good for you.

Reading:

The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer. But I’m pretty sure as soon as my Kindle is charged, the Interestings will take a back seat to Sinner by Maggie Stiefvater. I’m so excited for this YA novel it’s sick. But I think YA novels are a sickness in general. The guiltiest of pleasures.

Wanting:

A beach vacation. Even if it’s just for the day. I’ve learned that a change of scenery always does this family some good.

Looking:

At Instagram. Always.

Playing:

Pandora as a write this. Because music is where I get most of my inspiration.

Wasting:

All my days off on old episodes of Grey’s Anatomy that they play on Lifetime. Time on things like social media. Days being in the moment instead of writing about those moments. The writers blog and all around malaise towards writing will hopefully go aways soon.

Wishing:

That carrots tasted like chocolate.

Enjoying:

These lazy summer days with my girls. Days in our pajamas. Target trips for nothing in particular. Serving ice cream for dinner.

Waiting:

On inspiration and motivation to move back into my life.

Liking:

That last bit of light before the sun goes down. Where the sky can’t decide if it’s pink or blue.

Wondering:

If I will ever fully commit myself to my writing. If I will ever be brave and start writing the book I’ve always wanted to.

Loving:

Frozen mango. I know, sounds weird, but it’s really delicious. Nights spent in the front yard with neighbors that are now friends, and watching our kids play. Stolen moments with the Hubbs.

Hoping:

That I can talk myself into working out again.

Marveling:

That my two daughters are seven and four. Seven. and Four. What?

Needing:

More sleep. More time. A personal chef, house cleaner, and laundry folder. Don’t you think laundry folders would make a killing? Because everyone hates to fold their own laundry.

Smelling:

Chlorine on my babies as they fall asleep after summer days spent poolside at Grandmas.

Wearing:

A maxi skirt, because I can’t be bothered with shaving legs. Or showers. Or getting my shit together in general.

Following:

Macklemore on Instagram. Because he post pictures of his cat sleeping in a box. And also because my BF always tags me so I can see said cats in boxes.

Noticing:

That I like an unscheduled life so much better.

Knowing:

that I need to get off this computer and get out of the house.

Thinking:

About the short story that I started writing. And realizing it’s going to be an actual story.

Pinning:

Lots of Harry Potter memes. Inspirational quotes. And things that make me laugh.

Giggling:

With the Hubbs at Walmart.

Feeling:

Like there is a change brewing. For better or worse, I'll have to weather it.

What will you take stock of this month? If you write a post like this, please leave your link in the comments. I'd love to read it.

Source www.simplyalli.com

and http://meetmeatmikes.com/2013/08/taking-stock/

Snapfish read my blog {and wants to be friends}

Last week I went on a little bit of a rant.  I was just a wee bit upset about my Christmas Card Disaster of 2013.  I admitted that getting someone else's Christmas cards did qualify as a "first world" problem, but last Tuesday it was the most pressing and stressful problem in my holiday life.  

 
Turns out, someone (possibly one of you), sent Snapfish my blog post.  Maybe they sent it as a tweet, maybe in an email to their customer service, but some how, it made its way into the hands of it's Chief Customer Advocate.  I'm not even making this up!  

 
Imagine my surprise on Thursday when I opened my email to see a message from Snapfish with the title, "Sorry from Snapfish".  First off, this email was sent less than 12 hours after my post published at 2:30 am pacific time.  Second, this is a major corporation, do they really have time to troll around on Twitter?  Do they even read feedback sent to them?  Turns out that they do.  Let me just say that I did go around for a few minutes talking to the Hubbs about the power of the Internet.  Bloggers Unite! I was on a tangent like no other, until he stopped me and said that I still spend way too much time on Instagram.  I guess he had a point since I was Instagramming the email, while I was on my Bloggers Unite soapbox.  But seriously, Bloggers UNITE!
Their Customer Advocate was really apologetic, she apologized for the mix up with my order and she also apologized for my bad experience with their online chat.  Then she brought in the big guns... Not only did they refund my money, but as the email was sent, they were reprinting my cards and sending them overnight.  Even if I had reservations about reordering with them, they gave me no choice but to accept.  In addition to that they offered me some codes for complimentary canvas prints to give them a second chance.  Well since they asked, I'm happy to give them another chance.
Now for the redemption, and the reason I wanted to write another post about Snapfish:  The Customer Advocate asked for any information from the invoice to offer the same to Ms. Becker, who must have also gotten the wrong order.  I was so happy to oblige, because I knew somewhere in the country Ms. Becker was upset much in the same way I was.  So I'm hoping that the information I provided, helped get Ms. Becker a similar apology package from Snapfish.

They were on my door step Friday afternoon!

I realize that writing a nasty blog post about shitty customer service and a messed up order may not be the best way to go about things.  I was Instagram checked by one of my small biz friends, because her customers do this to her too.  They send nasty emails, trash her business on Twitter and Facebook, and are unpleasant all the way around.  She's right.  Everyone, even corporations, make mistakes.  So it's possible that my rant was a little off the rails, and perhaps if I would have waited until morning to actually call Snapfish's customer service, I may have gotten this sweet deal from the get go.
But if you have been reading this blog for awhile you know that I'm not patient, and I rarely wait for anything.  You know that I have a temper, I'm emotional, and an over reactor.  You know that nothing in my life is sacred, especially first world problems.  
So I'm going to give Snapfish a second chance after the holidays.  Bring in 2014 with some nice swag, and hopefully not end up with canvas prints of someone else's kid.
      PS:  My friend Veronica over at Good Luck Charm Designs hammered out this card in no time flat.

  That was before I knew Snapfish was bringing their A game. Here is the completed card per my request. She does amazing work for invites and cards for any occasion. Check out her Facebook Page for more info!    

One Fish, Two Fish, Snapfish, Crapfish

Let's call this the Great Christmas Card Disaster of 2013.  Let's call this the shittiest customer service I have ever received.  Let's call this my first and last time buying anything from Snapfish.

After waiting eight business days, when I paid for five, I was so excited to see the little cardboard box filled to the brim with Christmas cheer from the Crutchfields (that's us).  I cheered, I stopped everything, just to open that little box and oh, wait... That's not our family picture, that's a little girl. Sure she is cute and all, but who in the Sam F*ck is she? What in Rudolph's name is this crap?  Where the hell are my Christmas cards?  I'll tell you where my Christmas are, they are most likely with a nice woman named Teresa Becker, since I am now the proud owner of her 60 5x7 photo cards with the sweetest little girl prancing around in a tutu.  

First let's talk about SnapFish customer service which has a phone service that closes at 5pm pacific time.  Fabulous.  Let's talk about their twitter account that tweeted me a link where I could live chat with an available associate, but wait you have to wait for that associate to come on line.  And that my friends took over 30 minutes and even when it would light up that an associate was available, there would be an additional wait of oh, say 7 minutes and 47 seconds, before the chat timed you out.  When I finally did get through, Prodam (an avatar maybe) roboticaly asked me what they could help me with and when I told them the situation, they apologized and said they could offer me a full refund, and then sent me the link to re-order.  TO RE-ORDER.  Hello, did you not notice that there are only 15 days until Christmas, and at the rate that Snapfish takes to ship, and at the risk of them fucking up again, I'll take the refund only.  I won't be shopping with them again.  I was sure to tell them that in the survey that followed my encounter with Prodam.  And I swear to Santa I am not making up that name.  

I know what you are thinking.  Geeze lady, one slight mistake on the people at Snapfish, and you are off the rails.  Give them a chance.  Everyone makes mistakes.  Ok, I see your point, but then again here is my problem with that.  If Snapfish is the kind of company that really cares about their customers, then why wasn't I offered a refund and expedited shipping on my cards?  Why wasn't I offered an additional 25 cards for free with no refund and free overnight shipping?  Snapfish didn't even ask about the cards I do have, which are not mine.  Cards that are of some one's child.  Sixty cards to be exact, so somewhere in the world Teresa Becker is just as pissed as I am, or she is in tears that she has to reorder her holiday cards as well.  Snapfish made no effort to save the sale, and by the status of their live chat, I have a feeling I wasn't the only pissed off customer.  But hey Snapfish, change my mind... Or don't.  

Alright, I'll tell you the real reason I'm so mad.  I'm a procrastinator.  I waited way too long to order "fancy" cards which I never do.  For the past six years I've been ordering Costco cards, the 5x7 ones on photo paper using their templates.  I always order them the week before Thanksgiving and mail them the day after Thanksgiving.  It's like the only thing I do that's organized and scheduled in my life.  My Christmas cards are my small holiday victory. I pride myself on my punctuality.  But not this year.  This year I went to TinyPrints to check them out.  And by check them out I mean fall in love with an impossibly expensive card that I knew The Hubbs would never agree to.  Because we have to order like 60 and that's just immediate family.  I'm totally serious.  Anyway, so I was totally in love with these cards, and since I couldn't afford them, I contacted a designer friend of mine to see if she could do something similar, but our wires got crossed, and so I found myself card-less the day after Thanksgiving.  And since Black Friday deals were a dime a dozen that day, I found a great deal and an acceptable card on Snapfish.  Seemed legit.  So I hit purchase and the rest is now the Christmas Card Disaster of 2013.

This is what I get for trying to be "fancy" and have Christmas cards on "fancy paper".  This is what I get for trying to keep up with the Joneses.  I totally get it, if you want quality, you have to pay for quality, and this year, I've gotta pay for cheap.  Well not totally cheap, I put an emergency call in to my designer friend and she answered, and agreed to help even though she has a long list of loyal card clients in front of me.  As I type she is working on my card.  And yes, I will pay her for the digital file she is rushing to me, so that I can upload it to Costco, and by the grace of Frosty have those babies signed, sealed, stamped, and delivered by Christmas Eve.  

Then again, I may just publish my digital copy on my blog and then Instagram it since obviously this is a total first world problem and now I sound like a complete asshole.  

Ever have a Christmas disaster of your own doing?  Leave it for me in the comments so I can read them and day drink.

Random {Coffee Date}

 

It's been awhile since I invited you dear readers on a coffee date.  I feel like Fridays are always a wild card day in bloggy land.  Some Fridays I put up some serious content, something from the heart.  Other Fridays I share some funnies and it's totally casual like a Friday is supposed to be.  Today, I just feel like talking about a few things that happened this week.  Just to bring you up to speed with my life and hopefully make you laugh at the chaos that is my life. 

 

If we were having a coffee date today, it would have to be at Starbucks or Panera.  My house is a disaster.  Not like the usual disaster, but a new kind of let's rearrange some furniture, and add some furniture we got at a garage sale into the mix.  Oh wait it will have to stay in the middle of the entry way because it will not fit in the office.  It's that kind of situation over here.  Then I would tell you that our entry way table is actually a folding six foot hard plastic banquet table with a clearance table cloth on it to "look nice".  I swear the Hubbs and I still look like we live in our college apartments with all the mix matched furniture.  And I don't mean mixed matched in a cute, anthro inspired bloggy kind of way.

 

I'd also tell you that on Tuesday I compared the Brazilian Wax to a crock pot.  Yes, I'm getting lots of mileage out of this cringe inducing beauty treatment.  But hear me out.  The Brazilian Wax is the "fix it and forget it" beauty treatment.  I swear I totally forgot that I needed to book that appointment until I caught a glimpse of myself getting in the shower one morning.  Oops.  So like your crock pot, that let's you get on with your life out of the kitchen for 4-6 hours, the Brazilian Wax allows you to get on with your life for 4-6 weeks without the worry of shaving and such.  I stand by this statement, even though my best friend is convinced I have an eating disorder because I keep comparing my lady parts with food or food appliances.

 

I'd tell you that Wednesday I had a job interview.  I know, you don't have to say it.  However until I can make some scratch writing, part time work is where I'm going to end up.  The Hubbs has been clamoring for me to get a "steady non seasonal" job for years, and like with most things I either: A) talk him off the ledge while making housewife promises we both know I'm not going to keep, or B) throw a complete and total fit while telling him how horrible my kids will end up without a mother who stays home.  I know it's not pretty, but I'm at the point where I think part time work will be good for me and my family.  And it will force me to get serious with my writing and treat it more like a job.  Still, it was just an interview.  So we shall see.

 

I'd tell you that Thursdays are my nights.  That I didn't even give the kids a bath last night, because I was lazy and it seemed like such a daunting task.  Instead they put clean pjs on dirty bodies and watched TV until they fell asleep.  Fine.  Whatever.  I also stayed up and watched my favorite TV show Scandal, and yelled and screamed and said "oh no you didn't Shonda" at my TV.  The Hubbs stays up with me while I watch and complains about me being completely obsessed with another show, but he's coming around.  Starting to ask questions about Jake and Huck and Baby Huck.  It's just a matter of time before he comes over to the dark side.  Trust me it only took one Harry Potter movie and two episodes of Mad Men to turn him. 

 

Today I'm hanging out with my three year old.  I watched last nights Glee on DVR.  And I just updated The Secret, the next part in my short story.  I'd tell you that publishing this short story in pieces has been so much fun.  I'd also tell you that from here on out, posts and published pieces on this blog are going to be spotty at best.  I'm working on a few things, entering a few writing contests, and trying to figure out my next step as a writer.  But that doesn't mean I'm going to be shutting this place down.  This is where I exercise.  This is where I get my daily dose of me.  I don't write everyday, but I like the luxury of knowing I can.  So bear with me until the holidays are over.  I'll be writing and working and baring it all on Instagram.  I thought about taking a Hiatus, but I can't stay away for long.  So instead, I'm allowing myself to post when I want and when I can.  To keep working on the things that scare the crap out of me.  And to continue to dream the big dream. 

 

Then because I've totally manipulated the conversation and the coffee date, which is really a specialty of mine, I'd finally ask you:

 

Hey, what's going on with you?

No, really I'll stop talking now. 

      Hooking up with Alyssa today. You should too.

Life won't wait

I wish I had a good excuse, but I don't.  I had to drag myself to the keyboard tonight.  Life has been happening all around me.  In a good way.  In the best way.  
I've been writing.  I've been reading.  I've been loving, and living, and breathing.
What more can a person ask for?
Not much really.
But if I could, I'd ask for more time.  But I don't want more time for the mundane.  I don't want more hours in the day for chores, for dishes, for laundry.  I don't want more time for phone calls and emails, or Target trips.
I want more time for kisses before bed.  I want more time for after dinner ice cream sandwiches.  I want more time for late night giggles, while watching that hilarious movie with the one you love, while the kids sleep soundly.  I want more time to breathe, to think, to feel.
But I since I can't squeeze any more hours out of a day, I'll stop and enjoy those hours instead.  Away from the keyboard, away from the sink, away from the washing machine.  And I won't apologize.
Because the mundane can wait.
Life won't.

Let's talk about Thursday {the only schedule I keep}

As I write this, it's Thursday, hence the title.  However you will not read this gem of a post until Friday.  I thought about writing a post I've been slowing putting together in my head, but I don't have the energy for that.  Then I thought, well maybe I'll recycle a post.  Nah. Then I was like, why don't I just tell them about my day.  It could be like a coffee date chat/life lately/let me bore you with my mediocre life.  Take it or leave it, it's all I got.
As I write this, I'm still in the sports bra I wore while working out this morning.  Tank top too.  I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and added deodorant.  That was about the extent of the beauty routine today... Oh, wait, my hair is in a pony tail.  I'm also wearing yoga pants, because it legitimately feels like Fall outside, which is a false promise from Mother Nature, as its Fresno, and it will be 85 by Sunday. Bummer.  But for now, this is about as much as I can muster on a Thursday.  In fact I will not be surprised if I sleep in this.
Mac and I went from dance class to my Grandma's house.  It was fun to read her pile of "news" magazines, you know OK and Star.  I got to sit on my butt for awhile and let them entertain my three year old. I got to watch the Chew with my mom and my Grandma, which is a hoot, considering my Grandma will bad mouth Mario Batali every chance she gets.  She'll also tell you that the tall blond guy, has a boyfriend, but she's not sure if he's the wife or the husband.  I couldn't make this up if I tried.  But I love my Grandma, and at 81 years old, I cut her the slack that she is due.
I left Grandma's with high hopes for the rest of my day.  I'll start dinner now, you know prep it and such.  I'll do the dishes.  I'll write a blog post.  I love to pep talk myself.  It makes me feel like I'm one of those motivated mothers with her shit together.  I'm not in case you haven't noticed.  I did do the dishes.  I cooked some chicken for me. And then I turned on my laptop got to the blogger landing page, and read some of my favorite blogs.  I even left some comments.  Because today there content is way better than mine.  I get it folks.  If you made it this far, you're my hero.
As I was looking to Facebook and Twitter for motivation (instead of writing a post of any kind, sadly you got this), I realized that tonight is the season premiere for almost every show I love.  Big Bang Theory, Parks and Rec, Glee, Greys Anatomy, Parenthood. Shonda Rhimes obviously knew I could not handle Scandal on top of all of this and pushed that premiere until next week.  Seriously, though.  Most of that mess is going to have to live on the DVR until the weekend.  And what's up with the TV powers that be that have put my favorites on at the same exact time???  Hello?  Can you help me out here?  
Well once I figured out that I have a full schedule of TV watching tonight, I've decided that the blogging has to happen now.  The crafting for this adoption fundraiser is getting moved until tomorrow.  And my family will have to suffice on grilled cheese sandwiches, chicken nuggets and sliced apples.  
Because mama's got a schedule to keep. Which tells you how amazing I am as a wife and mother, since the only schedule I do keep, is the one based on all my favorite shows.


Come back next week where the content will be amazing. Except for Sunday. Homeland premieres on Sunday.

The Dress {a short story} Blogtember

Hello dear readers.  Today I'm trying something completely out of my comfort zone. Fiction. The prompt for today at Blogtember is to write a short story using a specific sentence. That means that every blogger linking up today with Jenni, will have written a story  that starts with the exact same sentence. Very cool, am I right? When I saw this prompt, I knew.  I knew I wanted to take this challenge, and give my writing skills a challenge. But I've been scared to hit publish.  I'm not sure fiction is my thing. So I'm leaving it up to you.  I trust you. Be my editor, give me a review. What do you like? What do you dislike? And if you are interested, check out other entries here.

The Dress
To say I was dreading the dinner party, would be the understatement of the century.  I was already sweating, one of my many postpartum perks.  I could feel my makeup threatening to smear as sweat started to bead on my nose.  My hair, already damp at the nape of my neck, was starting to frizz.  This is exactly why I stopped bothering with things like showers and makeup.  My hair dryer was as shocked to see me as I was to see it.  Why, why, why did I agree to this?  Why did I say yes?  
As I sat on the bed to wrestle myself into my Spanx, I could hear Addy crying.  Addy always cried, and Caleb always tried his damnedest to comfort her.  But we both knew what she wanted.  She wanted me, always me.  No matter the time of day, no matter the situation, Addy always wanted me.  It was never ending, and I was suffocating.  Her crying only added to my anxiety as I pulled and tugged the beige spandex.  Was it possible that I was so out of shape that Spanx were going to do me in?
No, this dinner party would be my demise.  But I had no choice.  Melissa was turning 30, and that in itself was a crisis.  She was the last to hit the big three-oh, and had been having a daily meltdown since January.  In the last 3 months she had received 2 botox treatments, a chemical peel, and for tonight's party, a spray tan, a Brazilian wax, and new highlights.  She was also back to her prebaby weight, her baby (a month younger than Addy) was sleeping through the night, and was exclusively breast fed.  She was a walking advertisement for perfection, just as I was a walking advertisement for failure.  But she was my best friend, so I had no choice.  Oh yes, this was going to be a great night.
Looking into my closet for the umpteenth time, I again realized that nothing I owned would do.  In this closet were the clothes of a size 6 person.  She was long gone.  Thrown out with the placenta just over six months ago.  How could we have lost her so quick and so suddenly?  Replaced by this zombie in spanx and heavy eyeliner that would hopefully give off the impression of well, happy, content.  Hopefully.  I looked to the closet door and saw my newest enemies.  One red dress, one black dress, both sized 12. Double digit enemies bought at bargain basement prices.  
Black dress, red dress, fat, fat, fat, I sang softly in my head.
"Jenn, where are the bottle liners?", Caleb bellowed from downstairs.
"In the pantry, second shelf, left hand side, next to the formula", I bellowed back, which only tipped Addy to the fact that I was still in the house.
"Thanks", from a frustrated sounding Caleb.
Caleb was dreading tonight as well, but for different reasons.  Caleb had to put on a happy face.  Caleb was going to have to lie.  For me.  For every How are you, we would, conspiratorially, say Fine.  For every How is Addy, we would nod in unison Perfect.  It would be a Christmas and Anniversary present rolled into one.  I had asked him, no begged him to do it.  Please for the love of God, don't admit that we co-sleep.  Please say we are still breastfeeding, please say she sleeps through the night, please say...  So Caleb, with nothing left to lose, was going to lie for me.  Because we had stopped talking.  Because we hadn't had a night out in, how old was Addy?  Because Caleb, I was convinced had given up on me.
Black dress, red dress, fat, fat fat.
I longed for my sweats.  Couldn't I just wear sweats?  I mean my hair was freshly washed and combed.  No, sweats would not do.  Melissa had sent me a text of the new dress she bought from Banana Republic.  Tara would wear something that looked like something her mother would wear.  Nina would wear jeans, because Nina always wore jeans.  And yet all three of them would look flawless and comfortable.  I was pretty sure I was going to look like a sausage, screaming to break out of it's casing.  Hopefully I'd look like a pretty sausage though.  Black dress, red dress, fat, fat, fat...  I grabbed the black dress just as the door bell rang.
"Jenn, are you ready?  Mandy is here", Caleb, his I'm tired of waiting voice.
"Five minutes, give Mandy the rundown and the numbers", me in my hold your effing horses voice.
Tonight.  A dinner party for someone else's life.  Certainly not mine.  A dinner party for someone without 15 pounds of baby weight.  A party for someone who had slept more than four hours a night.  For someone who could wear a dress in a single digit size.  For someone with a baby who didn't cry all night, for someone who did feel like and look like a Holstein cow. A party for put together, well adjusted people, who were not Caleb and I.  
"Jenn are you ready?", Caleb, I'm ready to kill you voice.
I looked in the mirror.  I'd never be ready.  Certainly not tonight, and maybe not ever.  I wasn't looking at Jenn, I was looking at someone new.  Someone named Mom.  And just like my new black dress, that name didn't fit either.