I remember shopping for an Easter dress with my mom when I was five years old. It was getting dark and the store was getting ready to close and my mom was getting frazzled. Add my (hyperactive) little brother, Thomas to the mix and you've got a party. The three of us crowded into a small dressing room and while my Mom wrestled my brother into a mini vest and bow tie, I was trying on flowery dresses. They were all really nice. I liked them all. But I didn't love any one of them. My brother's outfit was a "go" and my Mom gave me 10 seconds to pick a dress. I settled on a lavender dress with green trim and tried to convince myself that it was the perfect dress for me. As we rushed to the checkout counter. I saw it. There it was. A beautiful white dress with watercolor flowers on the skirt. It was puffy, sparkly and perfect. And there was only one. I stopped. My Mom stopped. Thomas didn't stop. But that's not the point of this story. I begged my Mom to let me try it on. She snatched it up and dragged us back into the changing room. The dress fit, Mom bought it and I couldn't have been happier.
We got home exhausted (except for Thomas) but felt accomplished. My Mom took my beautiful new dress out of the bag and then we saw it. They had forgotten to take the security tag off of my dress. Easter was one day away and I had a lovely exploding ink packet attached to my dress. I started crying, my mom started crying, and Thomas started doing ninja moves on top of the couch. It wasn't the end of the world but I wanted my perfect dress to be perfect and I'm sure my Mom was crying because that store was the last place she wanted to return to.
It all worked out in the end. I wore my pretty dress on Easter Sunday and I spent the day twirling until I threw up all of my Easter candy. Just kidding. I didn't puke but I did spend a lot of time spinning and fluffing my dress every chance I got.
It meant the world to me.
The bottom line...The moral of the story...The point to the rambling...
I've always loved pretty things. Everything I blog about, I can trace back to my childhood. When I was four my Mom and Dad would find me in my room playing with markers, water, and sprinkles (DIY color water, duh). When I was seven one of my Christmas presents was a box of empty journals and I filled them all up within the next few years. For my First Communion I didn't want a veil, I wanted a flower crown (which I had). Going to the grocery store with my Mom meant I got to add to my Smacker collection , because BIG surprise, I loved chap stick. I used to use my gel pens to draw various fashion designs. They were hideous but I LOVED doing it. I would cut out pictures of Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn and put them in my notebooks. I would stay up late watching old movies and dreaming of a time long before mine. Lisa Frank was my JAM and her vibrant school supplies were my favorite part of starting a new school year.
I don't pull my blog content out of thin air. I chose to start a lifestyle/mommy blog because I wanted to write and share things regarding those topics. So even though I receive some nice emails concerning this blog, I'll occasionally get a negative reader. I've been accused of being ignorant to what's "really important in life" and that I'm "exploiting my family" just to gain readership.
First of all, I know exactly what's going on in our world. The news is rotten and makes me sick to my stomach but I read it anyway because I feel that I should know what's going on. Yes, world hunger is important, the ebola virus is scary, and MANY innocent people are being slaughtered by ISIS. This is all true and I am very aware. My husband and I often stay up late discussing these things and praying for those who are so helpless. So just because I didn't choose to start a blog in which I tackle tough world issues, does not mean that I don't care, that I don't understand, or that I'm ignorant to the issues. I have plenty of blogs in my blog roll that do cover intense topics.
I enjoy hosting parties, doing projects, dressing nicely and taking pictures. I'm not going to apologize for that. I love capturing these things in a photograph. I enjoy editing photos and adding filters when uploading to Instagram. It's so much fun to stylize pictures as well. Do I usually have a baby on my hip and a toddler attached to my leg while I take those stylized pictures? You bet. Am I scrambling to push the mess out of the way? Oh yeah. Are my cropping skills amazing? Heck yes. Anyone who sees my photos will know that a mother of irish twins and one on the way is not lounging in a sparkly, clean home. You are smart enough to know that I have a mountain of laundry calling my name and a stack of dishes in my sink. But that's why I take the photos I do and blog about what I blog about. Among the messiness that is motherhood and the chaos that is life, there is beauty. There is just something about having a pretty coffee mug in your hand instead of a sippy cup that is good for the mommy-soul. Even if it's 11 a.m. and I'm still in my pajamas, at least I have that pretty headband that's hiding my greasy hair. And even though the last thing I want to do is
go to the grocery store, at least it gives me an excuse to try out my new shade of lipstick.
I really enjoy blogging. However, I'm not going to be offended if you decide that this isn't the blog for you. I promise I won't be hurt. I'm going to keep blogging about similar topics and taking pretty pictures. If you are someone who likes to frequently read my blog then I thank you for your readership and support.
It means the world to me.