I did get my wedding dress, but never intended to have one. I'm totally not a girly-girl, and we certainly didn't budget for one. We wanted something really simple, like a sweet summer dress with eyelets, and went into a wedding dress boutique to look at silhouettes. And there, on a mannequin, was this dress that my mother and I immediately ran up to and said: "Oh my God!" Turns out, it was the last of its kind in the store, and it fit me perfectly (here you have to order your dress at least 6 months in advance, and my wedding was less than 6 weeks away.) The boutique owner was lovely and gave us a huge discount and free alterations and free dry cleaning and steaming, so we gave in, and I became a girly-girl. Yet the dress wasn't really girly-girl; it was incredibly simple. Here, of course, because this is me, is a pic of me in my wedding dress (Eric and I are looking off in different directions because we didn't hire a wedding photographer and everyone was taking pictures. We often didn't look at the same camera
).
https://farm9.staticflickr.com/8500/8319406258_0c75f8a156.jpg
Anyway, I dreaded my 40s, 1) because the closer I got, the less fertile I became and the more depressed I became, and 2) I simply couldn't believe that I had reached 40. It seemed impossible. My 20s were a missing decade because my illness hit then, and my 30s were spent in school, either grad school or getting my B.Ed, and we were always poor. So I felt like my life had passed me by, until J came along, my husband became gainfully employed and I began to work part-time, and we bought a house, all milestone indicating that you've actually "made it" to adulthood here. And now I don't really think about it. Now I worry about our retirement savings...
Angel--that is an hilarious story! And it's quite amazing that it turned you off of alcohol completely. I wish I had done the same thing after pulling similar crap, but I was not as wise as you. It wasn't until one of my anti-depressants stopped alcohol from tasting good and sent me straight to the hangover stage, bypassing the drunk stage altogether that I stopped. Now I have a glass of wine at Sunday dinner, and that's about it. And I agree (and have always thought so), you write very well!
Early Morning Wake-Ups--still going on here, too. J is guaranteed to sleep through the night, will go down for naps like a pro, but just keeps waking up waaaaaay too early. This morning, it was 4:15. But OH and I left him until 5 because he wasn't hysterical, and we're afraid that if we keep getting him up before 5 then it'll become a habit that we'll never be able to break.
Rowan--you poor thing! Both you and M sound miserable! I hope you both start to feel better soon.
But the "oh dear" is to die for! I really wish I could meet M. Actually, I want to meet everyone's LO--I feel like I know them all so well!
Re: New Year's--nope, not doing anything. I haven't in years. I would actually like to go to a movie, but I don't know if Oma would come and babysit J. On the other hand, this is the woman who tells OH that she regretfully can't see J on her usual Saturday because she has to go to a family get together, and then phones back five minutes later and says that she can always be late for the party and to please bring J over.
Borboleta--Poor T and his ear and cough! Is any LO here not sick? I'm glad that your MIL suspected the ear infection! I hope he starts to feel better soon! Re: his walker, I can understand the hitting the walls part. Is there anyway to attach foam around the bottom edges to save the walls? As for the hardwood floors, I can only suggest not cleaning them. Stickiness would slow him down... T is in the 90th percentile for length? Wow! I'm jealous. What is he for weight? I always hope that J will be as tall as his father, but I don't think this will happen. He hasn't gone above 69th for height and at our last weigh in, he's down to the 25th percentile! (He was always 50 for everything before. A very well proportioned boy...) No one's worried about the drop in weight because he looks the picture of health. The boy also never, ever stops moving as well, so that's probably a factor, too. But I get a bit concerned because this is what they first noticed with his cousin, who was ultimately diagnosed with celiac; he was 50 on everything, too, until suddenly he dropped to 25th. Failure to thrive, they called it.
SK--creme fraiche sounds like the thick greek yoghurt I give J, but is no where near 35% MF! I saw there are some recipes on how to make it, so I'll look into that. Your OH didn't figure out before that F needs constant supervision? His claim that he does more work than you is becoming increasingly silly.
Okay, got to go--J's up from his nap!