lunch break

...rent the runway (again)

...I go out alllllll the time and I'm constantly needing new, awesome outfits.

Right.

But I actually had somewhere to go Saturday night so I decided to try Rent the Runway again. This was a little less formal of an event than last time so I went with...a jumpsuit. Oh yeah, I've made fun of people left and right wearing these. Eating my words, friends. And they taste good.

It's like Christmas morning opening up this box. I tried it on right away. "Those your new jammies?" Charlie asked. (Which is funny, because my jammie wardrobe consists of sweatpants and hooded sweatshirts, by that comment you'd think I wore things with lace).

I loved it. Anything that doesn't require spanx basically wins in my book these days.

 

An open back did require some interesting, um, undergarments. But I'll leave it at that. During several group photos, whoever was next to me put their arm around my back and said, "Woah! You have no back on your shirt." Living dangerously, my friends.

My sexy beach wave was brought to you by You Tube. Oh, and my earrings were rentals too.

I have really great friends.

And really incredible co-workers (although I'm not really sure whose leg that is).

 

...meet the artist

...of Man. In Canoe.

Charlie's artwork was featured at a local art gallery last weekend.

In preschool, he was never interested in art. We just figured he didn't really like it. That was OK. He's allowed to not like things.

But he started Kindergarten, has a wonderful art teacher, and a wonderful occupational therapist who helps him with how to hold his art tools. He also has an uncle who got him oil pastels for Christmas (his favorite tool). He now says that, "Awt" is his favorite class.

(And much to his father's horror, he's also become quite the Raven fan).

...birch box

...thank you for all your kind comments on my last post. I know if you've stuck around to read the last few years as my posts have become few and far between, you are true blue and have been through the gamut with my family. xo

My dear friend Carron is the best gift giver. I have always seen things about Birch Box on Facebook, etc., but I never really checked it out. I figured it was stuff I'd never buy. Honestly, cosmetics, skin care, and perfume are pretty low on the priority list right now. Deodorant and mascara, my friends. Deodorant and mascara.

But I love it. I love it because it's stuff I would never buy, in sample sizes. And if you want to buy the full size you get an awesome discount on it, like the first perfume I'm going to buy for myself since 1997.

And even better? It's $10 a month. So you get that Christmas morning feeling once a month for $10. Here's my referral link if you want to try it out. I can't wait to fill this box up with goodies.

...today

...you are woken up by a text at 5:45 a.m. asking if school's delayed. Sometimes it's nice to be the school's messenger. Sometimes it's not. You immediately start. "Please let it be clear," runs through your mind.

You drive four children to school in precarious weather. "Let it be clear," you think.

You catch your breath in the copy room. You haven't thought about it for at least an hour, caught up in your daily grind. "Let it be clear," you think.

You worry when school is dismissed early because the last two times, you've been at school when you got the news. "Let it be clear," you think.

You drive home, saying, "Let it be clear," under your breath every few minutes. Superstitious that if you don't say it enough, it won't be clear. You know the reality. You know you could say, "Let it be clear," 8,000 times and that it's not in your hands. You know you could pray to God, Allah, Buddha, but it's not in their hands either. It's on a sheet of paper in a file folder in a doctor's office.

You snuggle with a sleepy girl on the couch for an hour with your phone sitting an inch away. You grow hotter with each minute that goes by the 1:40 p.m. appointment time. "Let it be clear," you say again.

...and then it's clear.

...and then you go celebrate. And build a teeny tiny snowman.

...my happy place

...while "home" for a few days over Christmas, Clara, my mom, and I went for brunch and shopping at Terrain, otherwise known as my happy place.

It was a very French morning, with french fries and french toast. And Elsa earrings.

 

The ice queen was entertained by big mirrors...

...and diffuser samplers to stick in her ears

...in 2015, I will be better

...a better mom
...a better wife
...a better daughter
...a better friend
...a better employee
...a better eater
...a better exerciser
...a better memory keeper
...a better blogger

I don't do resolutions or words, but when I thought about what I want for 2015, the only thing that kept coming to my mind was, "better." So I'm rolling with it. Hope you'll roll with me. I'm off to a fine start with, "a better blogger" considering I meant to post this yesterday.