Has it Come to Skorts? Really?

I saw this skirt in a catalog and fell in love with it, but I didn’t act on my intense urge to buy. The intense urge to buy something occurs roughly 17 times a day, or more, depending on the number of catalogs that arrive in the mail. A Pottery Barn catalog can spin me into an existential crisis, one in which I run the gamut of I Need It All to I am Renouncing All Worldly Goods. And then back to needing it all.

The way I suss out what I really want is to see if I am still thinking about it the next day. And then maybe another day after that, depending on how expensive the item is. It really works for me. And that skirt passed the “still thinking about it” test, but by the time I decided to buy it, it was sold out.

This is obviously not a tragic situation or major crisis, but I really loved that skirt. So I decided to try to find it elsewhere and it is nowhere to be found. I even emailed the catalog and asked if they were going to restock it (nope). Somehow I ended up on another site and found this this skirt in paradise aqua, which I thought, while not an exact replica, it was still kind of fun. But it turns out it is a SKORT. I am not a fan of skorts. I never wear shorts because I don’t like the way mini pants feel on me. I never have. And given my personal dimensions, shorts never fit right. Too loose in the waist but too tight in the butt. I am a huge dress and skirt wearer, but I can’t deny how, going forward, with the girls and all, skorts are about 1000 times more practical than dresses and skirts. I just am not sure if I am ready to make that jump to skorts. That seems like an inch away from high-waisted jeans and Keds.

In a way, though, being a caretaker usually means your needs are second, or third or fourth. There are still days when I skip lunch because I am doing things with/for the girls, or I realize I have really needed to pee for about a half hour. Personal appearance and sense of style are given causalities. I can’t believe I used to wear heels and lipstick. Where did that person go? Now I can wear the same t-shirt day after day because if I don’t leave the home, who is going to know? What difference does it really make? And there is no point in make up or lip gloss. Which slides into why wash your hair everyday? And when I do, why bother blow-drying? This is not the best attitude and I need to fix it, but right now it is what it is. Once spring and summer come, and this hibernation is over and I can get out into the great outdoors for extended periods of time, things may be different. But right now, I just feel so pale and desperate in need of a makeover.

Madeline had a turkey meatball yesterday and mozzarella cheese and she loved it. She is, for the most part, such a good eater. Avery refused to try the meatball, but agreed to play with it if I put it on her high chair tray. Avery is a lot pickier, like I am, and it doesn’t bother me really at all. As long as she is gaining weight properly I am fine with whatever crazy food patterns she wants to have. I give them cheerios, the regular kind and the fruity kind mixed together, and Avery will eat the regular kind only. As a picky eater myself, I have lots of sympathy for this. I am still making their food, which is decidedly easier as they get older, but find I need to make smaller portions because their idea of delicious is not necessarily eating the same vegetable soup with pasta for six meals in a row. I think I need to mix it up a bit more. It was so much easier when they were just eating pureed things.

Pictured above, my new little thumb sucker. Out of the blue, Avery finds her thumb last week and starts sucking. Already she is a pro. Notice also how her tummy sticks out in a delicious way. Also notice the mess on my shirt. That was a turkey meatball accident. Pretty much everything I own now has some sort of stain like that. Also pictured, this is what happened when Nicole tried to donate her platelets. The process is bizarre: They take your blood, pull out the platelets and then put the blood back into your system. Nicole’s veins were too small or the collapsed, according to the nurse. This bruise is getting bigger every day!