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Mom Genes.

I’m a product of the eighties and brought up in the nineties.

 

I’ve seen some pretty crazy things as far as fashion goes. Designs, cuts, and fabrics all over the spectrum. I wore l.e.i. jeans from Mervyn’s, jelly shoes, butterfly clips, and white eye shadow (shudder). I lived in my Doc Martens only to alternate in on occasion my black platform sandals. I begged my mom to buy me ponchos and Juice Bar body spray and loved perusing the walls of Claire’s & Icing.

 

In short: I was a very typical, 1990’s tween girl.

Fast forward a bit to the 2000’s. Gone were the days of baggy jeans (thanks, I’m sure, to Rachel Green) and in waltzed a more hip pair of bottoms: low cut jeans. Low-cut jeans weren’t a new thing — they were pretty popular in the late sixties and seventies. But for those of us not born in the Flower Power days, they were new and they were what everyone wanted. Everyone except me and anyone else born with mom hips — regardless of whether they had kids or not.

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For a while, low-cut jeans were all you could find unless you wanted tapered-leg, boob-holstering denim. Obviously, being a teen girl and not an eighty-year-old woman, I wanted nothing to do with tapered-leg anything. So I took my chances and wore low cut jeans — for better or for worse.
 
Low rider denim ain’t for everybody, y’all, and they certainly weren’t for me. I found myself even more awkward than usual in the butt-crack bearing britches and took to wearing excessively long tank tops under every shirt I owned. Tucking in? Think again. These were not jeans that took tucked in shirts into consideration. You either wielded that plumber’s crack/thong with pride or you blocked views and drafts with your neon pink, French tip manicured hand.
 

I am one of the former, for sure. You won’t catch this three-times a momma in low cut ANYTHING. Or, at least, not on purpose. I am an avid believer in high-waisted jeans and thick ponte leggings. I wear shirts so long that some might confuse them as short-ish dresses. If you catch me wearing a tee shirt, you’ll also note that I’m wearing a tunic style tank top underneath. I’ve got no shame in my mom fashion game, y’all. No. Shame. At. All.

History repeats itself to those of us who choose to hide those high school yearbooks from our kids. Pretty soon we’re going to be subject to hormone-raged tweens and teens leaving very little to the imagination where their backside is concerned. I’m not ready, guys. My kids aren’t ready. And, no, I’m not relying on the old stand-by, “Boys will be boys”. I hate that phrase as it puts forth the idea that little guys (and grown ass men) are only capable of Neanderthal-esque tendencies.

With that said, I’m doing my best to ensure that my boys are confident in their own masculinity but also hold to respectfulness and mindfulness of women and young ladies in general. Even at their young ages, we are doing our best to instill in them common courtesy and a “hands off at all times” policy. We’re not messing around and they know it.

Nevertheless, they are little boys which brings me to an entirely different issue: potty humor. Potty humor is very much a thing, which means that butt crack humor is very. much. a. thing. You boy moms know my grief, I’m sure. I don’t even try to hide it anymore. I feel I can confidently say that if my five and nine-year-old boys laugh when someone passes gas, they’re going to laugh at a random buttcrack in Target. I mean, really, Jiffy Lube mechanic guy, if you don’t want a five-year-old to laugh at your hairy buttcrack, keep it covered.

 
Thankfully, low-cut jeans took a back seat to mid-rise, boot cut jeans pretty quickly. I still catch myself guarding my backside with my hand on occasion, though, even though I’ve since moved on to high-rise skinnies. But(t), alas: low cut jeans are making a comeback. Former wearers of the pant can be found all over Facebook and Twitter in either utter disgust or in total excitement.
 
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If it were up to me, low-cut jeans would stay forever locked on the sets of Friends and Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, a distant, slightly embarrassing memory that we can regale to our kids. A scary campfire story-type thing, if you will. I guess, however, this is really all coming from someone who does not and will likely never fully understand “fashion”. Don’t get me wrong — I can dress myself. But my clothing style is definitely more classic-casual. I’ve only recently started stepping out of my comfort zone. But a huge factor for clothing for me is COMFORT. If I’m having to constantly pull down, pull up, push up, button up, or cover up, then it ain’t for me. Being a mom to three boys? Comfort and practicality are key.
 
I’m not talking sacrificing on-trend for practical, though; I’m not buying my wardrobe from a ’95 Sears catalog. In fact, I get most of my things from Target or Old Navy (because: budget). But I am talking decency and modesty. Because I’m a mom to all boys, I don’t want them to grow up thinking women have to be frumpy to be classy, but I equally don’t want them to grow up believing that women are only sexy or attractive if they’re baring all constantly. Obviously, they’re going to form their own opinions in their own time. However, I’m a firm believer that living by example is key. A frustrating process, but key, nonetheless.
 
Jumping off the soapbox, I am curious to see how long this on-again-off-again trend will fare this go around. Honestly, though — I think I’m even more curious to see how long the corduroy jumpers I saw at Target a few weeks ago will last. If anything should have stayed in the 90s (besides JNCOs and white eyeshadow), it was corduroy.
 
Anything making a comeback fashion-related that makes you wince? Comment below!
DIY, Family, Furniture, Heirlooms, Home decor, Mom blog, Motherhood, Nostalgia\, Uncategorized

Sentimentallity

I am a pretty sentimental person.  I love birthdays and celebrating people on those days.  I love finding “that perfect” gift for someone at Christmastime to the point that it’s stressful — but I love it.  Bottomline, if there is any amount of sentiment in it, I’m there.

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On the flipside of that, I, personally, am not super materialistic.  I like pretty things and I could window shop all day long, but things don’t make me happy.  People and memories are infinitely more important to me than anything money could buy.

However, I do love sentimental items that have been passed down generationally.  There is something so special about looking at an old piece of furniture or a trinket that belonged to a loved one who has since passed.

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While I was pregnant, I frantically looked everywhere for a suitable dresser for Mason’s room.  I didn’t want to spend a fortune on cheaply made furniture, but I didn’t really have the time to refurb anything in rough shape, either.  My dad stepped in and offered to refurbish my great-grandmother’s old dresser and I accepted.  It meant so much to me that he would offer to do that (not that it’s out of character — he has made things for all of us since forever) and I loved the idea of having a family piece in our home.

He recently finished and I absolutely love it.  I love the dresser itself, but even more so I love the time that he took to make sure it was perfect.  I love that he wanted to hand down something that meant so much to him from a person who he grew up admiring.

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Mason’s nursery is full of special items that my dad either built, refurbished, or touched up.  Those heirlooms are why I love that room in particular so much.  It’s more than just material objects; it’s the love that came out from them.  I hope one day I will be able to pass on those items to my boys.  I hope that they will appreciate the thought and meaning of those pieces and that they will cherish them as much as I do.

Is there anything that has been passed on to you that you love?  What’s the story?  I’d love to hear about your treasures!

Family, Humor, Mom blog, Motherhood, Nostalgia\, Parenting, Relatable, Sitcoms, Uncategorized, Writing

Does Everybody Know What Time it Is?

If you instinctively answered, “Tool Time!”, then you might be a product of the nineties, or you’re at least familiar with sitcoms from that era.  I grew up watching Home Improvement with my dad; it brings back good memories and it’s a show I don’t mind my own kids watching.  Coincidentally, the things I remember laughing at as a kid (things I likely laughed about because my dad was laughing, too) are things that I laugh at now because they are so relatable.  The other day, my husband and I were talking about one of the episodes.  It hit me when Evan was mimicking a scene from Tim’s bit that we are, in fact, living out in our own version of Home Improvement.  In this particular scene, Jill is complaining to Tim about their eldest boys’ incessant bickering and is trying to come up with a logical way to correct the issue.  Tim’s response?  His trademark grunt, a quick room switch, and all’s well that ends well.  Naturally, Jill wasn’t very happy to be kept out of the loop, but even she can’t deny that the problem at hand is, well, no longer a problem.

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All of a sudden a flood of H.I. episodes came rushing to the forefront of my brain with one very clear thought: WE ARE THE TAYLORS.  It could be worse; we could epitomize the Conner family from “Roseanne”.  No thanks.

I’ve been putting an enormous amount of time into thinking about my theory, because, you know… I’ve got a lot of time on my hands (*snort*), and I think most of us mirror if not a full-on sitcom then at least a character, or group of characters, from a sitcom.  You think I’m kidding?  Go ahead.  Think about your favorite show or a popular show from any era.  The odds are, if you’re honest with yourself, that there is something out there that you can relate to at least a little.*  Hell, a good friend of mine is practically living out “Everybody Loves Raymond”.  Now that’s a show that’s great on a screen, but Lord have mercy am I ever thankful that I’m not living across from Marie, Frank, and Robert!

I think that’s the key to good writing, though.  A good writer has to pull his or her audience in enough to get them invested.  Generally speaking, an audience member becomes “invested” when he or she can relate to a character’s personality or situational moments.

For me personally, I can relate to Jill.  I’m married to a (not-so-idiotic) Tim and I have three boys who are all wildly different and who make me crazy.  Her days of being a SAHM really hit home for me as far as her feeling she isn’t living up to her potential, but I’ve also been a working momma.  Like Jill in later episodes, I know what it is like to juggle work and home life, hoping everything comes down in relative calm, only to wake up to a souped-up toaster gone horribly wrong.  Talk about being a chaos coordinator.  Yikes!th

My boys even fit the Tool Time bill.  Gabe is very much like Brad — likable, funny, and a little spacey.  Connor is the poster child for middle-kid syndrome, much like Randy.  He is smart and quick and, somewhere down deep, a sweetheart.  Mason is only four months old, but I’d be willing to lay a bet he’s calm, mild-mannered Mark.  Someone who just wants to fit in and be involved.  Most importantly, they are all mine and I love each of their unique personalities — even the crazy parts.

I’m not completely deluded; I know it’s just a TV show and we’re obviously not living in Detroit next to a know-it-all neighbor.  But somehow, on a super weird level, it’s sort of nice to know that there’s some writer out there making up storylines about a life that, I’m just being honest, really stacks up to my own real, off-screen life.  So think about it; what characters remind you of you and yours?  I’ve shared with you my weirdness — now it’s your turn.

* Side note: if you’re relating to things like The Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, or Game of Thrones, you’ve got bigger fish to fry and perhaps you should scale it back to Barone level.  Just saying.

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