[H&M dress + Joie boots + Madewell tights + Dannijo bag + vintage necklace]
Last weekend, I spent an inordinate amount of my Sunday morning lying in bed letting my mind chase thoughts up trees. I can sincerely find anything to worry about—conveniently, this is counteracted by an incredible ability to bury my head in the proverbial sand for weeks at a time. Taxes? I’ll get around to it. Is two years too long to go without a teeth cleaning? Meh, I’m sure it’s no big deal. Am I ever, ever going to be ready for kids? Probably not. Just your general terrifying notions.
Is this what my hangovers have become in my old age? No more gripping the steering wheel in agony on the way to the Wendy’s—it’s about a racing heart, worrying about the mortality of a friend’s pet. Or even worse, the mortality of people I know—and love. Those old and young, sick and scared, or healthy and in harm’s way. I can worm my way into worrying about someone else’s problems, like sliding down between two pushed-together mattresses.
This is growing up? You don’t say.
Frivolity is a hot commodity in this house. We’ve got so much up in the air—homes, jobs, futures, Eli’s problematic colon—you have to blow the whistle on it sometimes.
Small celebrations are my specialty. In the face of so much frequent worry, I find it really comforting to stop Rob on his way up the stairs and hold onto his forearm, look him square in his face, and tell him just exactly how delicious Grape G2 Gatorade is. I have to let this kind of crap out into the universe.
Sass on hip alert:
It’s too facile to get caught in the mental anguish of worry—if only my freewheelin’ characteristics came in a form other than urges to commit misdemeanors (or worse). Misdirected energies—story of my life!
But anyway, speaking of small celebrations—it’s snowing outside, but this sundress has been a constant source of happy thoughts for a straight week. So it’s still burping up frozen precipitation, but if you go shopping—even at Saratoga’s Mall That Time Forgot, which I did during lunch the other day—you’ll see signs of spring all over. Season change: the power to dispel useless worry.
…like when someone suggests mimosas out of the blue.
Happy spring, kids.
-Carey
Carey~
I know this feeling all to well. I think you have a beautiful way of handling it with your small celebrations. Times like these (and growing up) teach us about what is important and what we can and cannot control. May all your celebrations, no matter how small, be sweet. Your husband adores you and your cat, well, he’s cute– that’s enough in this world at any time. I know that is easier said from a distance, but I want you to know that you are not alone in your pensiveness.
Keep in mind that you are here for a reason and a purpose. You are in this world right now for such a time like this.
Thinking of you, friend. {{HUGS}}
i needed this post!
i love your sass on hip. i do that too…and now so do all of the girls…. 😉 I for one can’t wait till you have some babies. or not. whatever. ;0)
mimosas!!!
I feel you, but I really have to say this is an amazing ensemble!!! I love it.
Okay, now that was an amazing post. Everything is going to be not fine, but great! Look at how fun being married is? You and Rob make marriage look like the most hilarious adventure ever. Because you do it your way! Think of it as some weird high-dive syndrome. Take it easy on yourself. I keep telling myself that if you are a cat or dog person, you will be a great mom. In the meantime, take small steps by googling pictures of kittens and puppies. It’s going to be just like that, but even better! xoxo
I was talking to my friends the other day about your blog (as I’m frequently want to do) , and the gist of why I love this blog so much (beyond the pretty clothes and your pretty hair and Rob’s pseudo-Beiber hair flip) is that you guys are who I want to be when older. You make 30 look like a place I want to be. So if that helps at all, well, there it is.
Also, I can’t get over these boots. They are REALLY pretty. And while I don’t care for Grape G2 (aka Dimetapp), I laughed out loud at the sentiment.
Happy Saturday, you two.
Also, let it be known that that comment was written without any help from our alcoholic friends. TADA
LOVE this post and quite frankly your entire blog!! And could your hair get any better?!? I don’t know what you do but I would love to know the secret 🙂