Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman

I've gotten into a fashion rut since Henry and Eleanor were born. I've had to replace my entire wardrobe thanks to things growing and shrinking and rearranging themselves. And the wardrobe hasn't been replaced at a very quick pace, due to a) feeling guilty spending any money on myself now that I bring in no income, and b) said growing, shrinking and rearranging means being impossible to fit.

So I've settled into my Mom Uniform.

Jeans, Eddie Bauer t-shirt or shirt emblazoned with the name of an Illinois institution of higher learning, and comfy shoes.

My uniform has served me well, but ugh, I'm tired of it. I'm tired of wearing the same thing year-round--swapping out long sleeves for short and Birkenstocks for Danskos as the seasons change--and I'm tired of getting dressed on the weekend only to discover I'm wearing the exact same outfit as my husband.

So last weekend I did some shopping.

Skirts, my very first pair of heels in four years, and do I see ruffles? On not one but two items? Complimented with a pedicure featuring hot pink polish the exact same shade as my IT'S BRITNEY, BITCH bracelet (WHAT, oh like I'm sure you're SO surprised I own one).

A good first step towards dressing like a stereotypical girl, and like me instead of mom.