Sunday, August 25, 2013

What I Wore Sunday: Rock Star Edition

I am feeling kind of like a rock star right now.

You see, I woke up this morning and knew what I had to do.  

Well to be totally honest first I woke up in a bit of panic, because oh-my-goodness, Patrick had slept all the way through and it was 7 am and that meant he'd slept for 12 consecutive hours and I had to stop myself from jumping up and sprinting into his room to check his breathing because the kid has not been sleeping well lately (it's those awful teeth coming in).  Oh and I was kind of in agony, because he hadn't nursed for twelve hours and after a week of constant night time nursing sessions, that is not the best feeling in the world.  

But I waited until I heard Maggie wake up and then Sadie and then I went into Patrick's room and he looked up all smiley and happy and I got everybody downstairs and finally gave my full attention to the thought that had been swirling around in my mind all week.

It has become clearer and clearer these past weeks that I really have one shot at a successful Mass experience.  9am.  That's it.  If I take Mae at 9 am we might be okay.  11 or 6 are just not an option.  11 and 6 o'clock masses are like some sort of nightmare scene out of a horror movie with plenty of screaming and tears.  But at nine o'clock... she might act like a human being.

But since Paul got home from work around 4 am I knew that I was most certainly on my own.  So I got the kids fed and dressed and put Patrick in a carrier and Maggie on her leash, because there was no way I was going to be just holding her hand (if you've met her, you understand) and as we walked we talked all the way there about "our best behavior" and "going to see Jesus" and I hoped for the grace to just survive the upcoming hour and a half and not have a nervous breakdown.  

On the way to Mass Sadie was concerned.  Really concerned.  She kept bringing up the Little House on the Prairie episode where Pa doesn't go to church and the preacher is mad... and I assured her that our Pa would in fact be going to church, although she had to repeat how this was just like that...

We walked in through the glass doors and Maggie collapsed and began to scream "Go Ma! Go!  Go Ma!!!!!" repeatedly while people turned around to stare.  Not the best start.  I leaned down and got her to stop quickly (amazingly) and we proceeded towards the kids benches.  As I leaned forward to genuflect Maggie took a exceptionally clumsy step and slammed her face into the pew.  

So we retreated to the narthex.  And amazingly, she did alright.  She sat on a stair next to me and on my lap in front of Patrick.  She did make little Mae sounds and we had a few talks about squealing and about how she wasn't allowed to put my rosary in her mouth (she was for the most part, happily holding it in her hand).  But it was better than I expected.  

After the final blessing she had a full out melt down because I'd told her if my rosary touched her mouth one more time it was going back into my bag and it did, but my then it was over and I was dragging the whole gang outside and besides... we had survived.  

I even let them play on the playground on our way home because she'd honestly done like 1000x better than I'd expected (okay my expectations were lower than low).

When we got home we woke Daddy up, I snapped these super awesome (yeah, right) photos of my dress for the day.  I have mixed feelings about this dress.  

They're mixed because I really do love the dress.  It's comfortable.  It's easy to nurse discreetly in with a cami-secret under it.  I like the length.  However... it makes me look like I'm about 20 weeks pregnant... and I know this because when we're out and about we get looks like, "I can't believe this woman with this many little kids clinging to her is clearly knocked up again" (if you've gotten them you know what I'm talking about).  And it's true I can wear it through all forty weeks of a pregnancy because of the empire waist... but it's not actually a maternity dress (actually it's a juniors dress from back in the day) and apparently looking like I'm pretty pregnant in it (I'm not) isn't enough to dissuade me from wearing it.  

And so here it is... along with one of my snoods... I would have paired it with a sweater if I hadn't known I was going to be totally covered in babies (and a moby wrap today):

I just can't get my whole self in with my computer camera so you get a photo montage.
For more What I Wore Sunday head over to Fine Linen and Purple.


  1. I wouldn't have said you look pg in this dress at all!

    Bravo for getting through Mass. It's exhausting sometimes I'm sure.

  2. Congrats on surviving! My 2 were terrors. Its like they feed on each others energy. I did manage to calm the youngest by plopping him into the stroller and walking around the vestibule but not before he sprinted down the aisle. My oldest decided to exit out the sanctuary and take a trip toward the friary/rectory. Fortunately Father told me before hand not to worry about the noise. He'd an awesome guy.

  3. When your daughter ran into the Pew I definitely laughed at the computer screen. Oh little ones, we love you.

    And I don't think your dress makes you look pregnant at all!

  4. It's definitely a side profile thing! I think that's why I like the dress so much (until I see myself from the side in it). Because I'll put it on and think, "oh, this is okay" but then later in the day I'll look from the side and think "oh no!"

    It's the post three c-section bump that seems to take at least a year to start fading!

  5. God bless whoever invented the empire waistline. You look great!

  6. I don't think this dress makes you look pregnant-- and I really like it with your blue snood. :)

    There were times when mine were little that I stayed home from church rather than dealing with the tantrums (DH is not Catholic). I felt like I wasn't getting anything out of mass anyway and I'd wind up angry and upset by the end of mass every week... partially from the kids, partially from the stares of grumpy old people, and then upset with myself for my own reactions. Ugh. I'm not saying that was the right thing to do, but I very clearly remember those feelings. That was a long way to say... congrats for making it through a rough mass! :)


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