mother's day weekend, part 2

Part 2 actually starts right where part 1 ends. And it's not as long, involved, hospital ridden, or interesting. But I decided to write this in two parts because I thought that would be a good idea...

So after the ER drama, Baby Girl was in bed, and I was exhausted. I didn't make it very long before I went upstairs and collapsed in bed. I was almost asleep when I realized -- I never saw my dress make it inside. We were going to a Mother's Day brunch the next day and jeans are not allowed - especially my unstylish boot cut jeans that a half size too big. I got up, ripped apart my bag, looked through the closet, sent Andrew down into the cellar to see if it was down there - nothing.

The real problem is that our reservations were for 11am and none of the clothing stores around opened until 11. I must have looked up every store in the town of Falmouth and surrounding areas. Every single one of them opens at 11 on Sundays, at least in the off season.

Every store, except one.

Yup, Walmart. I had to get up early and go out to Walmart for my fancy clothes. There I was at 9am standing in the ladies clothing section of Walmart (located between the grocery store and hardware sections) assessing my options. Short shorts, polyester capris, jeans that could fit 37 of me... let me tell you, there were some slim pickings. But I persevered, and managed to find khaki pants! That were made from real fabrics! (okay, mostly made from real fabrics) And they looked nice on me too! As nice as they can look, since I am currently in between sizes and all my pants are a half size too big.

Wal*Mart Success!! And no one got a tick.

frump

I've never been very fashion forward. I really can't be, considering high end couture fashions were not designed for pear shaped women who are 63 (okay..... 62) inches tall. And now that my hips are wider than ever (but hey, at least the hips made having the baby pretty easy, all things considered!) I can wear even less fashionable items. I'll never own or wear them, but I am starting to understand why mom jeans exist.

To get to the point, I was reading this months Marie Claire and Ashley Olsen is on the cover. I have a slight obsession with all things Olsen so I immediately flipped to the article about her. It's 3 pages of her talking about how trendy she is, how much she loves fashion, how she creates all these very fashionable pieces for her own fashion line, and blah blah blah. I could not have been less interested, as I sit here in my khaki shorts (which I'll admit, I should NOT be wearing... but I just spilled spaghetti sauce on my Bermuda shorts) and t shirt.

But at least I'm comfortable. Poor Ashley always looks unhappy. Maybe it's because she killed Heath Ledger (oh, snap!) Or maybe it's because she is always wearing really weird clothes.

But not a single article of clothing on my body has baby drool, spit up, or poop on it. Ha! Take that, GROWN UP MICHELLE TANNER!!!