A Season for Bibs

Once you pick yourself up off the floor at the shock that this post is NOT about the birds at my house, I hope you enjoy it. I know it’s been my main topic for days but I am the type of blogger, as you well know, who does not have an over-arching topic or theme.

Even my fascination as of late with the birds does not constitute a theme.

It’s a ratio thing. We’ve been working on ratios in math lately. And yes, I meant “WE”…the PBA and I.

Math is not my thing.

I am certain my lack of a theme is one of the MANY things you L.O.V.E. about me…that, and that I L.O.V.E. to capitalize all letters of a word so you know which word to emphasis in a sentence, or when you are reading my post aloud to the crowd who has gathered upon hearing that I had a new post.

Without further delay, let us begin:

 There was a time in my life when I loved to wear overalls.

Not long pant overalls…shorts.

Oh yeah, Baby. H. O.T.

It will become obvious to you immediately why Mr. Always Random fell for me.

OK, maybe not.

I’m not particularly proud of that fact that I loved overalls so much, but that doesn’t make the fact any less true.

It began in college and, I’m sorry to say, this horrible fashion phase lasted until AFTER my second child was born.

So if you’re trying to figure out the math, it was probably about 10 years, if I am honest with myself.

Now, lest you be offended by my comments, let me offer this statement: there is NOTHING wrong with overalls. If you are a farmer.

Some of my best friends are farmers (ok, I have one friend who actually LIVES on a farm…calling her a “farmer” might be giving more credit than is due, but she is, I guarantee, more of a farmer than I’ll ever be), and I have yet to see her wear a HINT of an overall, let alone an entire PAIR of overalls.

See, that’s funny because you have to wear a whole pair. Try to keep up.  I know it’s been a while since I posted anything of any great length…I’m shaking off the cobwebs too.

I must confess that even though I want to have chickens in my backyard, this would not make me a farmer. But it may tempt me back into the seedy underworld of the overalls.

Get it? Farmer? Seedy? You’ve really got to be heady for this blog, don’t you?

And I am really ok with that, because I have made peace with the fact that overalls don’t flatter me…in the slightest.

Some people they are perfectly lovely on. Me? Not so much. And really, if we’re honest about it, I don’ t know many who can pull off the look.

Sorry if you’re an addict like I was. There’s help for it…you just have to ask. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.

Either that, or give yourself an honest look in a full-length mirror. That might be enough to shock you too. I think that’s what worked for me.

Or maybe I saw this picture and realized that the insanity must stop.

The picture you are about to see might be shocking. Especially if you did not know me way back then.  Please understand that this particular photo was taken at a phase in which I had a fussy baby (you all read the birthday post for Mr. Always Random the Youngest, right? If not, here you go.  Another piece of the puzzle will fall into place for you.) who wouldn’t eat or sleep well and frankly I was D.O.N.E. with everything.

This picture was taken on vacation that fall.

The PBA recently stumbled across a bunch of photos from that vacation as they were perusing all the digital photo albums.

I had clearly blocked out my wardrobe at this time, because I was both shocked and horrified by what I saw.

My 9yo commented: “I didn’t know that you liked overalls so much!”

I will admit that I wore them quite a bit. I think I thought it hid the post-baby belly. But as you will see, I don’t think it really mattered.

My 11yo commented: “Is that ALL you wore? Every picture it’s the same overalls with a different shirt!”

I do have to pause here in my something of a proud mama moment…I can’t believe he noticed what I was wearing! I mean, I’m not at all glad for my fashion selections during that trip, but the mere fact that he noticed makes this mama proud.

It’s the little things, really.

And no, I am not showing you EVERY picture…just one. It’s really going to be enough.

And we don’t need any comments about my hair or make-up either.

Or, most obvious of all, WHY I am holding an over-sized pencil under my nose like a mustache.

These are questions which can never be answered.

OK, are you ready?

Are you sure?

And have you gone to the restroom and are you seated?

Then Here.You.Go:

I cautioned you, didn’t I? It’s kind of like looking at the sun…are your retinas burning? I’m sorry. I tried to warn you.

Please consider this a PSA if you or someone you love considers throwing on some bibs: friends don’t let friends wear overalls.