What I Wore: Mother's Day

So how was everyone's MD? I just met up with some of my friends for a workout and we all had mixed results. Mine went over well! I got a new Morali flat iron and my new favorite toy in the whole world -- a Keurig! I am a big tea drinker so my husband bought me like, the biggest, baddest Keurig they make. That thing is so cool... and it does cold drinks too. Brilliant! I them promptly went online and bought literally 100 k-cups for the thing. I enjoy excess. I've brewed like 900 cups of peppermint tea in the last 24 hours.

Of course, I also got the cute prezzies from the kids. My daughter gave me a book all about me in which she refers to her brother as "the devil." And my son gave me a dead plant that he potted at school, but then hid in our closed-off, dark guest room for a week without water. Classic, right?

Also, I got my nap. After wearing this and then changing into stretchy pants for the day.

 Dress: Dorothy Perkins - sold out (similar)

Blazer: F21 (here)

Belt: ASOS (similar)

Shoes: G by Guess (with ankle strap)

Earrings: I have no idea I bought them at TJ Maxx lol!
Cuff: F21 (here)

 I'm totally doing the bend and snap here but you must see the gold on these heels LOVE.

 Accessory pic! Love me some gold and black accents.

This dress is a bit big for me so I belted it, but like, five minutes into wearing this I ended up ditching the belt. It was hot and there is nothing worse than belt sweat amiright? 

So yes, I felt pretty good about Mother's Day. However, if you're one of the moms who felt totally passed over yesterday, you have my permission to buy a pair of shoes. With your husband's credit card. 

Freaky Friday: Llama Drama

I'm interrupting regular Freaky Friday to bring you this awesome tale of animal taming and to reiterate how much I dislike the end of the school year.

Yesterday my son's preschool class had a field trip planned. We live fairly close to the Sri Sri Radha Krishna Temple, which has a huge llama farm attached to it, so the kids were going to take a tour of the grounds and then feed and ride some llamas. I was going to opt out of going because I pretty much always opt out of going, but my son gave me a puppy dog look and asked if I'd come too, so I loaded up the car and headed over.

While we situated the kids at the preschool, Andrew's teacher let us know that yesterday's group went and weren't able to ride the llamas because apparently they got out of the pen and ran away and the keepers couldn't catch them again. So, the keeper asked that we head straight for the llamas when we got there and take care of the kids' rides before the llamas got wise and took off again.

I had no idea llamas were so diabolical.

So we all pull up to the Temple. There are at least a dozen other moms there to the 20 or so kids and luckily, one of my friends was there with her son. We let the kids run off and play as we chatted for a minute. The kids all sat on the temple steps to hear a spiel from the keeper.

She talked exactly like this:















So naturally, I started giggling.

She explained that they would walk down to the llama pens, feed the llamas and then take them down to the ride pavilions. Sure! I took Andrew and we walked. Which is when he informed me that the farm stunk and he wanted to go home. Oh, no, Andrew. We must stay! It's so fun! He took one look at those llamas and was like:



So we stayed back and looked at some peacocks while the other kids fed the llamas.

Then, the Lover Lady -- as she came to be known in my brain -- let the llamas out of the pen and proceeded to put them on DOG LEASHES.

DOG. LEASHES.



She had one high school-looking helper and only two llamas that would let kids ride them, so I thought oh, OK, she has the helper to help lead the llamas. They started in the direction of the pavilion and all of us moms and kids followed.

Halfway down the hill, the Lover looks at me -- dressed in my stylish and very country-looking Fryes, of course -- and says "Can you handle this llama?" And me and my friend are like:



But since I never say no to ANYONE, I said yes.OF COURSE I could handle the llama. I have my Ph.D. in Llama-Handling with a minor in I'm a Freaking Idiot Who Needs to Learn to Say No.

I take the leash and the llama. And, while my friend is quietly laughing me, she's handed the other leash. HA! And I get all smug like:



Because suddenly I'm the best llama wrangler you've ever seen. And I'm wearing my motherfletching Fryes like I was born to live on a llama farm.

So we lead these llamas down to the pavilion and the teacher starts getting the kids organized. This is when my llama and I start developing a deep-seated hatred for each other. I'm just standing there, trying to be as far away from this animal as possible and he wants to be my face. All of a sudden he's like:



And I start panicking, because llamas are scary. I should also point out that I'm afraid of anything erratic. Birds. Spiders. Llamas for sure. They can smell fear.

Also, my llama wants to be face-to-face and his breath smells like death wrapped in congealed bacon and then set on fire and covered in poo.

The Lover puts a kid up on this makeshift saddle thing and tells me to start leading the llama across to the other pavilion. Sure thing, boss! Of course, this is when the llama begins kicking his legs wildly and I'm faced with visions of telling this child's mother that he was killed in a freak llama stampede. When the Lover noticed that my llama was "acting up", she puts ANOTHER leash on him and tells her helper to also try leading him. Suuuuure.

As we start our walk, we find out that my friend's llama will only walk if there's another llama in front of it. So I have to go in front. We make it across one pass and unload the kid and are loading a new one.

And this is when my llama starts growling at me.

But llamas don't growl so much as they make annoyed Marge Simpson noises. The helper holding onto the other side of my llama says "That noise means he's really upset" and then proceeds to put another child on the llama's back. This is when the llama begins to growl louder and toss his head like Ru Paul at a drag show:



He Does. Not. Want.

I'm hanging on for dear life and praying that the kid doesn't fall off and we try and make another pass. Halfway across the pavilions, my llama decides that he's real tired of this crap and wants to go home. He's clearly having some sort of crisis.



The only way to get him to keep going is to put a bowl of food in his face. The helper grabs one and holds it out and the llama then proceeds to viciously bash his face into the bowl, grab a mouthful of food and then eat it in a way that flings mushy food particles all over me.














So the order of people was now helper, helper's bowl, me, my devil llama, my friend and her obstinate llama.

I am now covered in llama hair, llama food and still hanging onto a leash attached to a llama who I am sure wants to eat my soul for breakfast. All of the kids -- except for mine -- wanted to go for a ride and I was basically dead inside. And did any other mom step in for a turn? No! Everytime I tried to catch one of their eyes they'd be like:



An hour later and we were finally done. The Lover took us on a tour of the rest of the grounds, including such delights like
- feeding the koi three full containers of goldfish food.
- seeing two parrots who would snap your finger like a twig
- learning about why cows are our ancestors
- and seeing a random rabbit that jumped across the property

When we finally ended the tour and were allowed to leave I was just dirty and done. I went to the nearest restaurant, scrubbed myself as much as possible and then ordered a cupcake. Last night I also took the world's longest shower/bath combo to get the llama stink out.



And I never want to see another llama again in my life. 


The best news? My daughter has a field trip today.













THE END.

Mother's Day Ideas That Don't Totally Suck: Under $50

Don't you love it when you pine away for a little Mother's Day recognition, but then when your husband asks what you want you're all like "Uhh I don't know" or even worse "YOU SHOULD JUST KNOW WHAT I WANT!"

Well, he doesn't. He doesn't know what you want. But I'm here to help. Whether you're trying to figure out something to buy for your own mom or you need a literal list complete with links to send to your husband, I've got you covered. Here's some of my picks for Mother's Day presents that don't suck.

An adorable tote:

Archila

I have a huge Calvin Klein tote that I use as my church bag that I would pretty much just die without. I mean, I have a normal purse, but I also have to carry a metric ton of crap around sometimes, which is where a tote comes in super handy. Plus, girls like getting bags. The End. And while this one is $55, you can find a ton of cute totes under the $50 mark.







A nap:

Please for the love of all that is holy. A nap. Because although the point of Mother's Day is to celebrate the fact that I have children, I wouldn't mind not seeing them for two hours.


A statement gloss:

Dior Beauty Addict Gloss

Buying makeup for anyone other than yourself is iffy. Unless that makeup is Dior Beauty Addict Gloss. It's the perfect lip gloss and comes in a bazillion shades and the tube is pretty and it makes me happy. This would be such a luxe gift to give to your makeup-lovin' mama or a cute splurge for yourself. PS: A tube of this stuff literally lasts me a year.







Something really super decadent:

I'm not big on candy in general -- I'm more of a bread gal. But when it comes to holidays, I love some big fluffy cupcakes or a huge bakery cake -- just something I didn't have to make and won't feel guilty about consuming. And it's so easy for the guys. Proceed to bakery. Pick out something fancy. Present to wife and mother of your children. Collect kudos. 


Never-go-out-of-style jewelry:

Kate Spade New York - Skinny Mini Pav Bow Studs (Clear/Gold) - Jewelry

Skip the kid's birthstone jewelry and go for something classic instead. Kate Spade bows will last forever and literally go with anything unlike your kid's birth stone. Both of mine are amethyst: ick.




Monthly beauty boxes:

OK, I'll admit I'm a bit of a product whore. So I totally love the idea of a monthly box with beauty products sent to me. Hello, gift that keeps on giving! For $10, ipsy.com sends you a box with four or five samples and full-size products based on your feedback on the stuff you love. Plus, getting something in the mail other than bills makes me happy.


Non-lame bath products:

Ocean Salt

Call me the most predictable girl of all time, but I love me some bath products. GOOD bath products. My brother's fiancee works for LUSH and she is always giving me awesome natural soap, fizzers, moisturizers and stuff because she understands that we both have a deep and bonding love for bath products. I fill up my jetted tub, dump in the smell-goods and queue up Mad Men on my iPad. Bliss.I love this scrub but I also love their Whoosh jelly and solid moisturizers too. And it all smells SO GOOD.



A chick flick and a promise to watch it without whining:

I did this with both The Time Traveler's Wife and Monte Carlo with my poor husband. But sometimes I just want to sit and sob over a movie and not be judged, OK. And DVDs are like what? $8 at Walmart? Even a tiny budget can handle this plus some theater candy.

Folding flats:

CitySlips Luxe Patent Contrast Toe Foldable Travel Flats

Yeah, maybe this is just on my list. But for all the crazy shoes I wear, I would love these as a Mother's Day present. They're adorable and they fit in your purse -- or in my case, giant Calvin Klein tote. And considering the condition of my feet from one too many mean shoes, they look pretty heavenly.










So that's everything on my list this year! What are you hoping for/doing for your own mama?

An Open Message to Anyone Who Isn't a Mom This Mother's Day

*** This is a repost. I'm giving your babydaddy extra time this year. Just print this out and leave it on his pillow and then collect your prize on Mother's Day. Or I'll punch him in the arm and as the sister of four brothers, I have an excellent arm-punch. Check back tomorrow for some gift ideas! ***

Yesterday, I asked what my friends were wishing for on Mother's Day over on my Facebook page. I was planning on doing a post about gifts and wish lists, but I changed my mind after I saw some of the responses. Instead, I'd like to write a letter to everyone BUT moms on this mother's day.

Feel free to forward this to your significant other or adult children with my regards.

(Disclaimer: This is not directed at my own husband, who is actually quite good at Mother's Day)

**********************************************************************

Hey, you.

Remember that time that you gestated another human being in your uterus?

Oh, you never did that? That's because you're not a mom. I feel like creating life, in and of itself, should be a reason for a "Hey, thanks for making me alive," or "Thanks for creating our children" gift come Mother's Day each year.

If that isn't enough for you, how about a "Hey, thanks for getting that baby out of your body despite the fact that both birthing options are kind of horrifying" gift?

Let's face it: Pushing a baby out of your lady business or being cracked open like an egg isn't exactly a day at Disneyland, k? It's work. In fact, sometimes they even call it labor. Not only does it hurt like a motherfletcher, it makes you feel all kinds of fat. So let's remember that.

And don't worry, I've got adoptive mothers covered too. Because it's not like taking on the responsibility of somebody else's biological child is a big deal or anything. 

Still not enough for you to throw a little something together for your significant other or mom on MD? First, you're a huge jerk. Second, moms are entirely responsible for making sure that their kids are functioning members of society. Instead of golfing on the weekends or being the "fun parent," we read boring books on parenting styles and worry if our kids pick their noses too much to ever be successful. And while sometimes it's fun to shape a human being, a lot of the time it just plain sucks. Because one day, when that kid pushes another one at the playground, whose fault is it?

You guessed it, his mom.

We also get blamed for serial killers. Try that on for size.

Sure, moms get lots of hugs and kisses, but they also have to deal with a lot of crap. And exactly zero of it is like a Gerber commercial. Instead, they:
- Clean up more human feces than anyone should ever have to.
- Make dinner four times over because Becky doesn't eat meat and Dad hates salad.
- Go to work and feel guilty and ostracized by the "Mommy and Me Happy Adventures Club" that she'll never get to join.
- Keep the house mildly presentable so as not to alert CPS.
- Fish stuff out of the toilet.
- Try to get the kids to calm down at bedtime because dad decided to play a round of living room football, despite the fact that Mom has been counting down the seconds till bedtime so she can do the laundry.
- Do the laundry.
- Deal with teachers and the school system as a whole. Worry about testing scores in preschool and stress over the lunch menu and whether or not she'll be judged by not making an all-organic bento box instead of just paying for the stupid chicken nuggets.
-Make daily choices that will affect another human being's future. 
- Feel guilty any time she's away from kids. That includes while using the bathroom.
- Give up all privacy rights, even when showering. Especially when showering.
- Deal with anyone and everyone who wants to voice their opinion on how she's doing her job as a parent. Thanks, stranger, but I *know* tantrums in Walmart aren't ideal.
- Find friends for play dates that aren't annoying, smelly, bratty, angry, or mucus-y. It's harder than you think.
- Be sexy. No, you try being sexy directly after using a booger sucker dealie on your congested kid. It's disgusting.
- Feel guilty because our homes aren't done up with turquoise blue DIY tables, owl accents, and handmade wreaths that are changed out for every season. 
- Be an all-star photographer. Then blog all of the cute stuff kids do without ever complaining that all you want is a nap.
- Give up the idea of a full night's sleep for the next 18 years at least. 
- Know that no matter what you're doing, you should be doing something else. If you're making lunch for the kids, you should be balancing your checkbook. If you're working, you should be at a soccer game. If you're staring your child right in the eyeballs to lovingly give him all of the attention he needs, you should be getting romantical with your spouse.
- Are told - ad nauseum - that we should enjoy every little moment that ever happens in the history of our motherhood. Yeah, when my kid barfs on my shirt, there's nothing I want to do more than get out the Kodak and write about it in my diary. 

And then, THEN, you forget to do something nice for Mother's Day? Really? After 364 days of basic slavery to everyone but herself, the mama in your life doesn't get so much as a "Hey, thanks for doing everything for everyone ever"?

Then you sir, are a huge dillweed.

Now here's how it's going to go down: You're going to take five minutes to think about the mom in your life, whether she's the one who birthed you or the mother of your kids. And if you even try to say "But my wife isn't MY mom" I give her permission to divorce you immediately. As far as I'm concerned, your wife does as much, if not more, to feed and clothe you as your mom. Not to mention no wife wants to see her husband give expensive gifts to his mom and then forget about the mother of his kids. Because we all know your kids will bring home cute homemade presents from school, but honestly, they're crappy. Cute, but crappy. Until they start making Nordstrom gift cards at kindergarten or teaching shiatsu massage, you're going to have to step up.

After you've thought about it, you're going to act. Moms don't need huge expensive gestures on Mother's Day. Seriously, just something that says "When I thought about it, I realized that you actually DO stuff and I should recognize that and not be a complete d-bag about it."

For some, it's a card. For others, it's jewelry. For some, it's a gift card and a massage that doesn't have sexual connotations attached to it. For others, it's getting the kids out the house so that your wife can take a freakin' nap for two hours.

Look, I'm not complaining about my lot as a mom. I knew what I was getting myself into when I signed up for the job. And there's nothing like it in the world. But it's HARD. And it makes me CRY. And I'm tired ALL THE TIME. And sometimes, there's nothing I want in the world than to get a little thumbs up and a "Hey - you're awesome" to remind me exactly why I didn't kill my three-year-old after he threw a flashlight in the toilet. It takes more will power than you think.

There's no reason that you can't show a little respect to moms this Mother's Day. It's once a year. No one is asking for a huge festival. Just a day that doesn't completely suck.

You can handle this.

Don't be a dillweed.

Love, Jae

Freaky Friday

 Sorry I'm late getting around to this today, guys. My daughter's school had a Walk-a-Thon to raise money for supplies and stuff. The way it was structured is that the soccer field was measured to be a quarter of a mile long. For every four laps the kids did, they got a special prize. The prize for the 20th lap (5 mile mark) was a pair of sunglasses and my daughter was determined to get a pair. Unfortunately, the event was only 90 minutes and she only got 18 laps in. When I went to go find her, the rest of her class had already stopped and were sitting together and there she was, puffing around the track all by herself. Her face was all red, she was all sweaty and when I called to her to stop, she burst into tears. She's a bit sensitive, my kid. When I asked what was wrong she said "I just really wanted those sunglasses and I only had two laps left!" I think my heart broken into a zillion little pieces for her. I helped her get a drink and meet up with her class while talking up the 18 laps -- almost 5 miles! -- that she did instead, but I could  tell that she was really disappointed.

I called my husband to tell him all about it and both he and I felt so bad for her... she tried SO hard. SO naturally we've made plans to take her out and spoil her a bit tonight. So I'm taking an afternoon siesta and then I'm off to do something fun!

Stupid Walk-a-Thon.

Anyway... onto the freakiness before I sign off for the day! 

 I know this happened a week ago, but I haven't had a chance to comment yet. I would just like to point out a few things.

1) This is a woman who has said she has the butt of a 20-year-old stripper. Just marinade on that for a moment.

2) I really think she was screwing with everyone at this point. Like oh, they hate me? Let me show them just how bad they can hate me!

3) Let's not act surprised. This is a woman who wore this to the Oscars:

She has a history of going sans underwear. 

 Alison sent this over in a compilation of bad prom dresses. Oh, I must have missed the part where dressing like Britney Spears in "Toxic" was a viable choice for prom!

I just envisioned a girl walking down the stairway to meet her date in this. It reminds me of "Never Been Kissed" when the nerds come to prom dressed as DNA. WHERE would that ever happen?

 She also sent me this swimsuit with a note that it looked a little "burny." Agreed. I would also point out that the angle on the model's crotch is disconcerting but don't look now.

 Jumpsuits made of denim because it's 1973 and you can. (Thanks Dawn!)

 You guys know how I feel about ugly man shoes. They are a travesty. Especially when styled in what might be the worst color of "bottom of the pool" blue and with fringe. 

 I think I may have had this skirt in like, 1993. Of course, I also had bad teeth and bifocals in 1993, so that's not a good thing.

I can't even with this. The Cosby sweater is bad enough. Pair it with a floral skirt and it's like they're just testing the model's gullibility.

Alright, I'm out to go assuage the guilty feelings my poor daughter has caused me. Enter overindulgent parent mode NOW.

Why You Don't Have to Totally Love Your Body

This post has been rattling around in my brain for a while, so bear with me.

I have two fairly prominent scars on my face: One on my nose from last summer and one right above my lip from when I was a kid. I'm pretty sure it's from when my youngest brother threw a VHS tape at my face, but don't quote me on that.

Now, every "body love" thing I've read is all like, flowers and rainbows about imperfections. Hooray! Your scars make you unique! Stretch marks are beautiful! Your big nose is distinguished!

Okay, so I get the sentiment. It's good to be confident, yes. But do I love my scars? Nope. I hate them. I hate them so very much. I cover them with makeup just about every day because they irk me, even though I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who notices.

Here's the problem with being pressured to love your body. It goes something like this:
1) Have something about your body that you dislike.
2) Hear someone say that you should love it anyway.
3) Try.
4) Fail.
5) Feel extra bad because now, not only do you dislike something about your body, but you feel bad that you can't embrace it and are quoteunquote "not confident."

That's two times the bad feelings, people!!

It was as I was slapping primer all over my nose scar and repeating positive affirmations about scars being A-OK that it finally hit me. Guess what? You don't have to like everything about your body. In fact, you can straight up dislike stuff about yourself and it's okay. 

Here's the thing: Everyone -- and I mean everyone -- has stuff about their body that makes them contemplate plastic surgery or juice fasts or a face transplant. The trick to really knocking it out of the park is liking something. Not everything -- just something about your bod that you know makes other people jealous and that makes you feel good.

I propose that for real body love, you need to stop slavishly working to love all of your imperfections (I DO love my cankles I DO I DO I DO!) and focus on something that you do love. Because I feel like telling myself that I love my face scars or my big nose or my weird ribs is like hugging that aunt that I never see. It's not genuine and it makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable.

I have a friend who makes me say something good about myself every time I say something negative. The other day I was joking about my T-rex arms -- seriously guys they are SO short -- and she was like "Fine! Say what you want but now say something good!" Not: "Don't say that about yourself!" but "If you're going to say something negative, say something positive too."

Sorry, there's no special class that you can take that will teach you to love every little thing about yourself. Instead, you have to work with what you've got. Why spend time hoping that one day I'll fall madly in love with my forehead wrinkle when I have really good hair to style? My imperfections don't even deserve that much time or thought. Honey badger don't care.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you never learn to love your elbows and you don't feel like displaying your stretch marks on the beach, it's OK anyway. You don't have to love everything about yourself. You're not perfect. You'll never be perfect. Can we all like, get over it and move on?

I'll probably never make nice with those stupid scars and I'll always put makeup over them. Does that make me a less confident person? Probably not. Because I have scars on my face but I also have a really good butt and long eyelashes and I can live with that trade-off, you guys. Whole body love can suck it -- it's about as real as unicorn poop.

As my home girl Amy Poehler says, "There’s only, like, five perfectly symmetrical people in the world, and they’re all movie stars, and they should be, because their faces are very pleasing to look at, but the rest of us are just a jangle of stuff, and the earlier you learn that you should focus on what you have and not obsess about what you don’t have, the happier you will be."

What I Wore: Spring Farewell

I got back from my girl's weekend on Saturday and it was SO much fun. We ate, we shopped, we napped, we ate and then ate a little more and it was divine. Although I am sad to report that I have yet to find the perfect camo skinnies and am still on the hunt today. However, I did get some awesome stuff like shoes (of course) a bunch of nice, sloppy tees and a super-cute maxi skirt. YAY for breaking my shopping fast -- I can breathe again.

Of course, today my son woke up sick and so I'll probably be hanging out at home, which is sucky because it's gorgeous outside. Like, we're nearing shorts weather here and I am very happy. We can finally say goodbye to winter layers, like this outfit:

                                                 Top: InVein via Edge Custom Shop

Jacket: Downeast Basics (similar)
Jeans: Liverpool Abby in black obviously (here)

Boots: Soda (similar)

Bracelets: Nordstrom (similar... and cheaper!)

Leather cuff: Marc Jacobs (want!)

Say goodbye to boots and jeans because I think it'll be skirts and dresses for the next few months or so. 

Bye, adorable military jacket that I love so much. I shall put you in my guest bedroom closet, as I Have a severe jacket-buying addiction and have run out of room for you.

 We shall meet again, intentionally ugly combat boots. Thou hast served me well this winter.

Seriously though, the weirdest thing about Utah (OK, living around millions of Mormons is pretty weird) is that it has no spring to speak of. You go from snow to sunburn in like, three hours so you have to be ready. And by "be ready" I obviously mean "buy sandals immediately."

You might still see these boots if I can figure out how to wear them with dresses without looking like a grungey 90s rock singer. It's a work in progress, really.

Anyway Spring, it's been a slice. But it's like, 80 today and my kids are out of school in three weeks and Summer will be back in full effect. Heaven help us all.