I needed to buy a dress recently. Something nice. Something that I would wear actual shoes with. Something that would be fancy and (gasp) feminine. I was feeling kind of snazzy at the big box retail store. And by snazzy I mean that I suddenly could imagine myself in a dress. In several dresses. I started picking up ones that looked fun, cute, sexy (!) and then my eyes landed on a dress that was SO not me. I kept moving, kept weaving in and around the clearance section looking for a-line, looking for v-neck, looking for…oh but that dress! It was calling my name. It insisted that I come back for a closer look. So I did, and I touched it, moved my finger across the belt and laughed at the absurd color.
Oh my the YELLOW of this dress. So yellow. Yeah, it was all yellow.
I have never worn a yellow dress nor have I ever desired to wear a yellow dress. But something about this dress spoke to me. It said, “confidence, tall, bold, daring!” It truly felt like it was calling to me. I grabbed my size and dashed into a dressing room only to discover that the dress didn’t even go over my hips. And they didn’t have a next higher size. And at this point it didn’t matter because zap! There went my fantasy moment.
I wanted the moment of seeing a dress, feeling excited by it, trying it on, and then having it look amazing on me. When it didn’t happen it took a lot of grip to pull me back from the, “OHMYGAWDIMSOFATANDUGLY” place. A lot. (as in there might still be bruises from where I gripped myself so hard from the pull of the plunge towards that kind of thinking.
Later I logged on to the site (JC Penney, fyi) and read some reviews of the dress and saw that some other women found the hip area to fit a bit snug. This was comforting, yes. And sad.
The rest of my week has sort of followed this trend of tides ebbing and flowing.
On the way to school yesterday W started counting to ten. My mind was totally blown. Totally. I dropped him off with his favorite teacher and exclaimed, “he can count!” She said, “well we have been working on that.” And I spent the day smiling thinking of W at school and soaking things up so well. I picked him up a little before three and had him bouncing on my hip when one of the developmental experts at his school saw me and asked for my cell number. “Not to alarm you but I have observed some things…”
[Just got off the phone with her (love her) and feel better about her observations. She thinks W may have vision issues so we are going to keep an eye on some specific things. “Vision limited in certain planes”.]
After school yesterday I had to return the new shoes I recently bought (they suddenly were incredibly too tight) and hope to find replacement shoes in my ginourmous shoe size. I imagine not many of you have to call ahead to a shoe store to see if they have ANY shoes in your size. W gleefully brought me every chuck taylor knock-off while I examined all three pairs of shoes in my size. Yup. Three. The first pair was a sort of gladiator sandal, in black, with epic rhinestones happening. The second would have been perfect if I was headed to nursing school. The third, thankfully, was just fine, cute even. And of course cost me an extra $10 after I returned the shoes that didn’t fit.
I grumbled over the dwindling state of my bank account (I am forever tap dancing to keep it in the black) and headed to Mother’s office with W singing along to Luscious Jackson in the backseat. Oh yes. We were on our way to see a man about a free frog pool! (aka sandbox that can be used as a pool)
Obviously on the way to get the frog I ran over a large bolt in the road. It lodged itself in my rear tire SO well that a simple patch could not be done and instead an expensive complicated patch was necessary. (thankfully a new tire was not needed – BUT STILL)
There is nothing quite so awful as hanging out in a downtown Philly service station on a super, schmooper hot evening with a frog pool in your trunk and a pissed off toddler thrashing at your side. (too bad we didn’t think to take the pool out and chill while we waited…)
But Mother was with us and helped keep the some of my zen from oozing out and making a mess. Oh man I was a mess. Gross, sweaty, cranky, so frustrated, totally singing the “WHY?!!!!” song. On the drive home we saw an old truck that had a significant tire blow out in the middle of the road. It hit me then – well yes- I unfortunately ran over something- and yes- I had to pay to have it repaired. BUT I was able to have my Mom with me, get safely to a service station, buy W some orange juice, and no one was hurt.
It’s the spurts of life, the engine revving moments. I could have had a great yellow dress. W’s teacher could have missed observing what she did. I could have decided not to accept a free frog (and maybe avoided a flat tire). All of it is on a card that makes up a day, a week, a month. This is the stuff.
“I drew a line, I drew a line for you, Oh what a thing to do, And it was all yellow…” –yellow, Coldplay