What I Wore: Moab Love 2013

So I went to Moab with the fam this weekend. And I mostly wore workout pants and T-shirts. But I thought I'd blog about it anyway since I did last year. Traditions, people. Blog traditions!

We've been going to Moab since we were dating -- in fact, my husband proposed to me just a few days after our first-ever trip there. I guess he just couldn't resist the way I look when driving a Jeep and not showering.

This year we planned MUCH better and instead of doing the whole "Wouldn't it be cool to go to Moab right this minute?" thing, we actually like, booked a hotel and had the Jeep serviced at least a week in advance. I was very proud.

 This is what happens at Moab. Really bad hair. There's sand and dust everywherrrrrrre. 

 A woefully inadequate sign.

"Hazardous cliffs." They forgot to add "especially when wrangling a really excited 4-year-old."

 

 "And very nervous 7-year-old. Also, a 28-year-old who's scared of heights. While her husband takes pictures from a safe distance." 

 Guys, I know you can't see it, but this is totally me driving like a boss. 

 

I give my husband dirty looks when driving, FYI. 

What I wore:
Victoria's Secret tee
Buckle sunglasses
Workout pants
Nikes

.... all. weekend. long. 

 

Excuse me while I pray for our survival.

Especially when there is an erratic child behind the wheel. 

 Meanwhile, back at the hotel, I finally got to wear this amazing swimsuit that Beverly Swimwear sent me. Excuse me while I die of cuteness/awesome tan line overdose.

I need to get a better picture of it, because it is seriously awesome. I chose it specifically for wakeboarding and I can't waaaaaait.

 We also did the Moab Easter Egg hunt. Thirty minutes of buildup, thirty seconds of activity.

 Oh I'm sorry, I forgot my kid was too cool for school.

So yeah, no cute outfits. Just some family time where I didn't have to ask my child to take pictures of me. I forget that being behind the camera is fun too. And I can have dirt in my hair. Don't worry, it's washed out now.

Mostly.