I feel like a girl getting ready for prom. That's had three babies and been married for almost ten years. So, Monday night Hubbend came sauntering into the living room where I was happily listing out what I wanted to get done before we leave on our trip. He casually mentions, "I got an email today telling me how to dress." Okay. No problem. Hubbend hedged. Now, this is a problem and I immediately became suspicious. Because when Hubbend beats around the bush, it means I am not going to be okay with something. I've been planning on buying a top or two, but I feel like my wardrobe is fairly decent. "Business meetings, blah blah blah, Casual attire, blah blah blah, BLACK TIE..." I think the world stopped for a second. I have garbage bags in my purse in case of poop explosions. And teething vibrators that stop Chickadee's raspberries. I also have a massive key ring so that Beansprout can ride his bike in many locations. My feet hav...
The life of a train wrecked woman, trying to get back on track.