i get a lot of questions about Harper’s wardrobe. i always feel awful answering because the majority of her clothes come from consignment stores and that means you can’t just run out and buy them. but seriously, as we’ve talked about, thrifting and consignment stores rocks my socks off, and it’s an obsession of mine. i love searching for that special piece in a sea of not so special pieces. it’s like drugs, only waaay cheaper and i keep my teeth, family and dignity.
anywho, these coats have been in the back of Harper’s closet for a very long time, just waiting for her tiny gnome body to grow big enough to wear them. a few are second hand a few were gifts. i just have to share some of them with you guys because i am so. very. excited! for her to wear them this fall.
this raincoat was a gift from my aunt. it’s reversible and i almost can’t look at it, it’s so cute with it’s little girls with umbrellas.
consignment find. just love.
a gift from my friend Bree, from my baby shower. it’s from H&M and claims to be a 4-6 month. their sizes are whack, yo. this will just fit her now. and you guys? i’ve been waiting for a long time to put this on her. also? there are matching boots. I DIE.
a gift from my friend in minnesota, Jessica (HI JESS!) for Harper’s birthday last year. she’s finally going to fit in it and i see 2 year photos written all over this bad boy. can you imagine her hair and this coat?
so really funny story before i share this video with you. when we were visiting with my friends John and Lauren a few weeks ago, Harper kept calling them Dad and Mom. we were all laughing, but soon realized it was because Savannah, who is 4, calls them Mom and Dad and Harper thought that was their names (so cute!). but ever since then, pretty much anyone who has brown hair and even resembles Lauren, Harper calls Mom. people at the grocery store, park, everywhere. and it is just as completely awkward as you’d think it would be.
last week whilst on vacation, visiting Scot’s parents, i got an email on my phone. it started with “Congrats Mandy!”, so i almost deleted because hello, i’m not really interested in winning the Nigerian lottery and all i have to do is send my first born plus 3 goats and 9,236,000 rubles or whatever.
but then i saw the word Balenciaga. and then i saw BlogHer. and then i realized all at once as i was reading it that this wasn’t jokes. i remembered specifically dropping my card in the fishbowl at Sugar Inc. while Mae and i perused the expo. i specifically remembered them saying “you could win a Balenciaga handbag” and specifically remembered my heart skipping a beat.
this email was telling me i’d won. me. i never win ANYTHING. i think i’ve won one giveaway on a blog, but before that i’m pretty sure the last time i won something was when i was 5 years old, had a raging case of chicken pox so bad i was quarantined for 3 weeks and won a coloring contest at the local safeway for a cabbage patch kid. true story.
that was last tuesday. the last week was spent jumping up and down at random times, looking at the bag over and over online, doing the necessary steps to claim my prize (dude, a notary was involved), and emailing back and forth with the very lovely Victoria over at Sugar, Inc. those of you who follow me on the twitter know that i’ve barely shut up about it. sorry. only not really because seriously?
it came today. and yeah, it’s totally on my mantle right now. because obviously.
it’s perfection. gorgeous, magical, soft, GORGEOUS and looks like narwhals and unicorns sat for years painstakingly creating this masterpiece. i’m actually scared of it. hence the current mantle placement.
i knew i had to sign for the package so like any smart person, i put a bra on when i woke up this morning (you’re welcome fedex guy!) because my tracking number said it would be here today. wouldn’t you know right as i’m changing the monsters diaper, the doorbell rings? luckily i had already wiped, but the new dipe wasn’t on. i started to panic. omg, if i don’t get down there NOW, he’s going to leave! and by the time i get this diaper on and down the stairs he’s gonna be driving away and i’m gonna have to run after his truck and i’m gonna look crazy! and then they will send the bag back and pick a new winner and ZOMG!!!1!!one! so i scooped her up, no dipe, legs of her footie pajamas flailing behind us, and booked it down the stairs. i don’t care if she pees on me! i set her down in the kitchen and opened the door as nonchalantly as one could who just had baby business on their arm, signed for the bag and WELP, HERE WE ARE.
last night, before it’s arrival, we got the bill for Harper’s hospital stay (we don’t have insurance, but they thought asking for $8000 by october 5th would be right up our alley. GO AMERICA!). after throwing up in my mouth, i turned to Scot (and twitter) and said “i’m gonna have to sell the bag”. but after seeing it today? OH HAIL NO. besides, i’d need about 7 of these bags to pay the hospital bill so I’M KEEPING IT. besides, how cool will it be to give Harper someday?
::passes you a drool rag::
i want to thank Sugar Inc profusely from the bottom of my never-owned-anything-this-nice heart, especially whoever drew my little business card out of the many. this has made my dayweek month possibly year.
special thanks to emily and morgan for talking me down of the ledge last night re: selling the bag. seriously.
if you need me, i’ll be off wondering if it’s kosher to carry a target wallet and dr. pepper chapstick in something that cost more than my entire wardrobe combined.
when i was pregnant with Harper, the thought of having a two year old was laughable. it just…wasn’t on my radar. i thought it would take like, a million more years to get to 2. now that is laughable. two is here. it’s next month. i can’t stop time and it hurts, while simultaneously being kinda awesome, because this little person is so fun and funny and full of life and learning faster than i can keep up.
and after 2 comes 3. and three, i’ve been told by many a parent, is even worse than 2 (and even faster). and after 3 comes 4 and that is a real, certifiable KID, and i can’t have a KID. after that comes school….and OMG I NEED A PAPER BAG.
there are the things i absolutely adore about this age (really, each new phase and age is my favorite phase and age). like the way she has really found her independence in certain things, like playing. the way she lays down in the bath at the end so i can rinse her hair and she looks at me, smiling, mouth full of teeth, and says “mommy? mommyyyyy!” and laughs because it sounds funny with her ears under the water. the way she sits her little chair, eats her snack out of the cup and boogies along in her seat to the music on yo gabba gabba. if we sing the Dora song, and get to the “swiper no swiping!” part, the way she yells “AW MAAAN!”. the way she counts to 10, but says “ocho” at eight, but the rest in english. the way she just is. i’ve never met a kiddo like her. i know i’m her mom, but dudes? she is the freaking bees knees.
let’s not be silly here, though. she is a challenge. along with her free spirit and wacky-cool personality comes a challenging lack of patience, sassy attitude and the testing? oh the testing. there are days when i stop and realize i am being played by a toddler. and she is good. we are in for something special. and by special i mean send sedatives.
“eating is literally the worst! WHY do you make me do it evil woman! this cup is GREEN and i wanted pink! i will ruin you!“
my nerves and ability to keep calm are being challenged. i will be the first to admit there are times when H will be completely losing her mind over the most ridiculous, minute thing ever and i am left standing there, staring, unsure of where to even begin. she gets time outs (which i’m convinced she actually enjoys), she has rules, all that jazz. but regardless, you can’t tame an almost 2 year old. she understands a lot. but not enough. the reasoning isn’t there. she will still dive bomb off the couch, no matter how many times she’s done it and hurt herself (and for the record, it’s quite a few times).
many days, i have to consciously look at the world through her eyes in order to get it. maybe i can’t figure out exactly why she just acted like someone shot her dog because i put milk in the sippy cup instead of juice (WHEN SHE ASKED FOR MILK), but at least if i take the time to put myself in her frog boots (p.s. obsessed), i can lower my own blood pressure, too.
friends, this next phase is gonna be some work for me. bear with me as i might post about my frustrations, the trials and tribulations of being the proud owners of a 2 year old, and most likely beggingPLEADING asking calmly for help. in fact, i already have a post brewing in which i will need suggestions.
this raincoat was a gift from my aunt. it’s reversible and i almost can’t look at it, it’s so cute with it’s little girls with umbrellas.
consignment find. just love.
a gift from my friend Bree, from my baby shower. it’s from H&M and claims to be a 4-6 month. their sizes are whack, yo. this will just fit her now. and you guys? i’ve been waiting for a long time to put this on her. also? there are matching boots. I DIE.
a gift from my friend in minnesota, Jessica (HI JESS!) for Harper’s birthday last year. she’s finally going to fit in it and i see 2 year photos written all over this bad boy. can you imagine her hair and this coat?
