These past few months I have witnessed more tragedy than the rest of my life combined. If this is what growing up means, I don't want to be a grown up.

When I heard the news last night, all I could think about is how I have no doubt he "made it." In fact, I bet the angels heard he was there and grabbed him and said, "Oh you don't have to wait in that line! Come on in!"

The day has finally come...

If you choose to be around me in the next few days, I will not be held responsible if one of my shirt buttons pops off and takes out one or both your eyes.

oh shabby apple...

So for my birthday my Mother did an excellent job getting things I really wanted! She had a little help though, in the form of my Amazon wish list. Now I don't really have this list so people will just decide to buy me presents off it. It has a cool function where you can add anything from all over the internet with a link, so I use it to keep track of things I like FOR MYSELF. I sent a link to it ONLY to my mom, just in case. :)

Well she ordered this Shabby Apple dress that I had on there, and I got it on my birthday. I tried it on and not only did it look horrible on me, but it felt cheap and looked cheap. (They make them look so chic on their site.) So I googled the brand on the tag... which brought me to this:

www.chicstar.com
It's trashy, it's sketchy, it's nowhere most Mormon girls would go looking for a modest fashionable dress. And apparently it's where Shabby Apple acquires some of their ridiculously pricey dresses.

Case #1: My dress
Chic Star
Shabby Apple

Mine was red, which Chic Star appears to be out of right now.

Price difference: $36

Case #2:
Chic Star Dress
Shabby Apple Dress

Price difference: $24

That's all I found for now and I don't want to spend the time looking for more.

Now, I understand mark-up. I understand that is how you make money. And I appreciate that Shabby Apple has found modest, fashionable dresses and made them available to the Mormon masses. But the dress I got was not at all what I was expecting it to be. It felt like something I would buy at Forever 21. Which is fine, but it isn't the way Shabby Apple markets their product. They market their product as top quality, and their impressive website helps with the illusion. Which again, is fine. It is business... But I want you, my friends, to know.

Now I have to pay return shipping and because they will send out ONE exchange for free, I am actually exchanging my dress for another item that claims to be "Made for Shabby Apple." Here's to hoping it looks and feels a little better and that I don't end up having to pay return shipping again.
Apparently not.

Edit: In defense of Shabby Apple, they list this manufacturer on a couple of their dresses...

Shabby Apple
Stop Staring

Shabby Apple
Stop Staring

Apparently there wholesale price is much better on this line, as their prices are significantly lower than Stop Staring. (Which I assume is why they actually list this as the manufacturer; it makes them look reasonable.) The lesson here is that there are gems to be found on websites most of us would never look twice at.

My favorite part of my entire day is when I have to change Claire's diaper first thing in the morning. Well, I guess it is about five seconds before I have to change her diaper. It is when I unsnap her jammies and pull her sticky little feet out and she is so soft and warm and still just a little asleep and those feet are just irresistible. I love those feet.

Today was hard. Some days are just hard. And I miss my mom and dad and Willie smells and I am just not sure I have the time or patience to give him a bath while Claire finds the next disaster to get into. Because no matter how many times I make sure there is not a disaster to get into, Claire finds a disaster to get into.

So I put her down for a nap, and she starts crying, because five days of constant attention has spoiled her, and HOW DARE I WALK AWAY, and where the heck is Daddy?

I know crying it out has it proponents and others think you deserve to be reported to CPS. I'm somewhere in the middle. Actually, I just think you have to do whatever works for you. But for us, crying it out has never really worked, because by the time Claire gets tired enough to fall asleep, it just means she will wake up twenty minutes later even more upset. Or, better yet, I walk in to check on my screaming, crying, hysterical baby, and the stench of a poopy diaper washes over me, and I think, what kind of mother am I that I let her cry for this long!!?


So I will tell you that I was at my wits end by the time I decided to let her cry it out this afternoon. She was naughty on the flight home last night (a first) and I was exhausted from the travel and stress of getting back home. So she cried, and then I went in and changed her poopy diaper, and then she cried some more. And then I cried, and I sat downstairs and listened as she cried and banged her sweet squishy little hands on her crib, and I cried some more.

And finally she fell asleep. An hour later, she cried again. I went and got her, that sweet squishy little girl, but I could tell she was still tired. So we went downstairs to the glider and I held my anti-cuddler (not a word, by the way) close, and just like that, one rock... two rocks... she fell back asleep. And for two hours that sweet little girl slept on my chest, something she has not done in months, something I have longed for, cried for, prayed for, over and over again.

And I know it is silly, but I feel like she knew. I feel like she knew I needed that today. Today I needed her to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. And I love her. I love her sticky feet and her chubby little hands that pound on the edge of her crib, and I even love those warm, salty tears that run down her face when she cries too long. Yes, they break my heart, and I hate to see them, but I love to kiss them away.

Back from a fantastic whirlwind trip to Seattle and enjoying a moment of downtime. Just me, milk, and my macaroons.