Last week we looked at summer dresses for us. This week it’s all about little girls and their swimsuits. Take a look at these adorable options. I choose all one pieces because something about little bitty girls in bikinis creeps me out . Of course, some of the bikinis I’ve seen teenagers wear creep me out even more.
Can’t wait until summer when those chunky thighs are hanging out of their suits!
Just to be clear, I’m talking about little kid thighs, not my own.
See anything you like?
Last weekend I took Caroline and Andrew to our neighborhood Easter egg hunt. Derek and Alex were off at a soccer game so they missed out. As you can see, Caroline and Andrew were deeply disappointed to miss the soccer game.
Caroline is wearing her “e-sta wabbit dess” my mom gave her and Andrew is wearing a shirt from Aunt Kelly. Thanks for the adorable clothes!
She’s wearing her summer hat since it was roughly 90 degrees and sunny.
Andrew was very willing to take a picture with the Easter Bunny. Caroline, not so much.
One of my favorite pictures shows right before the egg hunt began – Caroline and Andrew look like they’re standing at an Easter crime scene…I can see the headline now: Massive Mob Attacks Rabbit who Placed Fruit in Easter Eggs
After the Easter egg hunt, Caroline & Andrew came home and dumped their baskets on the floor. Caroline was excited to find plastic bracelets in each of her eggs. Andrew was happy with some of his finds – little erasers, spinning tops – but not so happy with some.
I am now the proud owner of 6 pairs of stick on earrings and 2 plastic rings.
It has been 6 weeks since my miscarriage and I’m angry.
Just plain angry.
I don’t know what stage of grief that falls under. In fact, I purposely have not looked at the stages of grief. I don’t want to think I’m on stage three when a bad day makes me realize I’m really still at a one. I know I will teeter back and forth between the stages, whatever they may be, but I don’t want to know about them officially just yet.
Here are the stages I have gone through:
Stage 1: Sadness. To the core.
Stage 2: A Need to Hide: I could not see or talk to anyone the first two weeks. I knew I would break down and it was not something I was comfortable doing in front of so many.
Stage 2: Retail therapy: I told Derek I didn’t want to hear anything about our Discover bill this month. Just pay it and we’ll worry about the next bill in due time. I’m sure he’d say THE LOFT, Target, Macy’s, and Dillard’s have benefited immensely from my grief.
Stage 3: Annoyance: Annoyed that Derek gets to carry on with life as usual and I am stuck waiting. Waiting to exercise, waiting to have a direction again, waiting to feel normal.
Stage 4: Jealousy: Looking at pregnant woman wishing it were me. This one always makes me feel like such a jerk since I’ve already been blessed three times.
Stage 5: Anger: I’m angry I had to quit my part time job I loved. I’m angry I can only exercise 2 times a week right now because of some complications. I’m angry I got my period. I’m angry I can’t fit into my summer clothes because it’s 85 degrees. I’m angry the daycare can’t seem to clean my daughter’s nose once during the day. Just name it and I can give you my side of it and how to be angry about it.
Stage 6, 7, 8, 9, 10… I don’t know what phase I will go through next but I do feel confident I am moving in the right direction. Writing has truly been cathartic for me. It lets me share at my own pace.
I will be fine. Better than fine. Just not sure when.
I just washed and dried my jeans.
I hope I remember the Pillsbury Dough Boy feeling I am now experiencing when I have the bright idea to do that again.
My dad loves to give silly t-shirts for Christmas presents.
Over the years we have all had our fair share.
One Christmas my sisters and I each received a shirt that said, “What Happens With the Sisters, Stays With the Sisters.”
Another year Derek received a shirt that said ,”Derek, the Man, the Myth, the Legend.”
Last year my shirt had a wine glass with the phrase, “More book club please.”
But this year my dad found a shirt for me that speaks the truth.
When you see this shirt, you will automatically think, “Yes that’s Jen.”
I am this shirt.
I think you will understand once you see it.
My husband turned to me one Friday night several weeks ago and asked what our plans were for the weekend. I looked into his big brown eyes and knew he wanted me to say, “We’re eating out, going to the movies, and relaxing all weekend.” Instead I looked at him and knew I was about to burst his bubble. “I want to demolish the coat closet.”
“You mean the new closet in our new house?”
“Yes, I hate it. It’s messy. It has no organization and the kids can never find their things.”
Sigh. “Okay. Show me what you want to do in the morning.”
Our coat closet had the awful hanging single shelf but not much more. The kids (and I) would end up throwing our coats and bags in their and shutting the door. I think my husband was the only one who actually hung up his coat, hence his inability to see the need to demo the closet.
Our first step was tearing out the shelf. You can see the left over piece at the top of the above photo. My husband then taped dividing lines about every three feet. I wanted everyone in the family to have their own dedicated space.
After painting the lines (first white and then blue – to have somewhat straight lines), we added hooks.
Each person has 3 lower hooks for items they use on a daily basis…..
5 small hooks to hang hats……
and 3 large hooks again at the very top for items not used daily (soccer bags, etc).
I then painted the kids’ names into the section they chose for themselves.
So far our new closet works perfectly. We bought the hooks new but used paint from another project. A little bit of work that makes a huge change for us.
Any little projects you’ve been thinking about tackling?
Anyone who knows me knows that I am totally hip and fashion forward.
I am on top of all the latest trends and can forecast the next big thing, like parachute pants and acid wash jeans.
No, I am not hip, fashion forward, or on top of any of the trends.
Some days I go to the mall in fear that Stacy and Clinton will jump out at me and stage a fashion intervention in the middle of The Gap.
Well folks…I’m hear to say I have made a step in the right direction.
It all started in Nordstrom’s when I started stalking the shoe department. I am not one of those people who receives a gift card and spends it immediately. I need to visit the item I’m considering on at least 5 separate occasions before I will commit to buying them.
It only took me a month and 3 visits this time.
I bought them last week.
They are very comfortable and…completely on trend. So says Elle Magazine, Teen Vogue, and Seventeen Magazine. I’m sure InStyle and the adult Vogue will be publishing about them any day now. But until then I’m holding onto Teen Vogue’s praise of my beloved.
I don’t think high heeled loving Stacy would be shouting, “Shut the front door!” when I walk out in my TOMS but I think it’s an improvement from flip flops (at least in the winter).
Of course the other reason I bought them is their policy of giving away one pair of shoes for every pair that’s purchased. Let’s face it. I’m a humanitarian changing the world.
Plus, I won’t lie. I feel a bit hip walking around in these shoes.
