Back when I had the time, energy and inclination, I blogged daily the outfits I was wearing. I occasionally was solicited to review products from a couple clothing companies. I even was quoted and pictured in a Huffington Post article. But one of my proudest moments was when an aunt of mine referred to be as a fashion plate.
That same phrase was used the other weekend by my mother-in-law. While I did indeed still swell with a bit of pride, it was a comment directed towards my daughter and not myself.
There was no mistaking that.
C looked adorable. I looked dressed.
There were times simply being dressed was a huge accomplishment. Those hot summer days towards the end pregnancy when nothing but pajamas fit. Those early days of motherhood when you don’t even know the last time you slept let alone did laundry. But we’re passed those days.
Without a doubt the day will come when C is old enough to choose her own clothes, maybe even buy her own clothes when I will be willing to accept that she has surpassed me in style. But there is absolutely no reason I have to pass the baton yet.
I return to work in three short weeks. I will have no excuse to not get pulled together on a regular basis. I no longer have the excuse that “I’m still losing the baby weight” (I’m a touch smaller than before, albeit more squishy), or that “most of my wardrobe is work clothes” (since, you know, I’ll be back at work). But after having mentally checked out of the fashion world for the last year and a half (give or take a few months), staring into my closet it already giving me cold sweats.
I have three weeks to come to get soak up every last minute with my daughter. I have three weeks to enjoy the last dregs of summer. And I have three weeks to remember how to dress myself every day.
It’s going to be a busy three weeks.