Every once in a while, I’ll catch Eirinn with a tear in her eye after she’s been scolded for some misdeed.  “What’s wrong?” I’ll ask.  “It wasn’t me, mom.  It was the devil.”  Now, my kids are master manipulators, so don’t think for one second I’m not completely on to her deal.  But still…  If she’s committed enough to this concept to produce real tears and everything, I’ll hear her out. 

However, this morning I decided to elaborate on her teacher’s version.  Sure, I can support “the devil made me do it” … to an extent.  There’s just that pesky free will that puts a wrench in the thing.  If we’re Team God, then we acknowledge that He gave us free will; the ability to choose what we do and say.  Our behaviour is our own doing.  Sure, the devil may sit on our shoulders and whisper sweet nothings about pinching our sister or making a Barbie accessory hurricane or taking a VERY inappropriate tone with our parents, but our free will allows us to decide whether or not to act upon these thoughts.  The devil can be very loud and very convincing; with free will, we have the ability to be good people because we can choose to ignore what that asshole says.

Eirinn thought free will was a stupid idea.  Unaccountability sounded much more appealing to her.  Take this morning, for example.  She most certainly did NOT tell me within earshot of her sister that she wishes Avery would just shut up already because she didn’t want to hear her talk.  She would NEVER do such a thing.  It was Satan.  So obviously it’s not HER who should be getting in big trouble because SHE didn’t do it.  Put Satan into time out.

Catholic school is awesome.

“Your mom is the winner,” said one particularly naked brunette.

“No, YOUR mom is the winner,” retorted an equally naked, save for a painted on swim suit, Belle.

Now wait just a minute, here.  YOUR mom?  YOUR mom?  Spoken with the exact inflection and amount of forceful sarcasm as one would use while delivering a Yo Mama joke.  No, yo mama’s the winner.  Granted, being a winner isn’t necessarily the greatest yo mama punchline, but the intent was clearly there.  And seeing as I am the mama to both parties, I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or do a victory lap.  Should I be insulted?  Was being a winner in this situation a bad thing, seeing as they were arguing over who had to be said winner?

I was about to ask for clarification when the tub exploded in giggles again when the oldest blew air bubbles into the water and made a farty noise while doing so.  Given my extensive experience with these two, I’m pretty sure I should have been insulted, but I was kind of proud.  I can take a joke.

“Hey, Eirinn, that water your just put your mouth into is the same water that touched Avery’s bum and I’m pretty sure her toots weren’t pretend.”

I’m not sure where all of the class went, but I am positive there is none left at my house.

Polyvore.  Oh, you damn, dirty, devil.  You’re like dress up dolls for grown ups with low standards for entertainment and long attention spans and I CAN’T QUIT YOU.

This week, I wore the following:

***

Again, not exactly exact outfit matches, but really, really close.

And in between micro-documenting my day-to-day outfits, I’ve also created entire collections inspired by fictional characters.  OH, YES I DID.  It’s literally the funnest thing ever if you’re a super huge loser nerd with no friends and no life and a tendency to become obsessed with stupid stuff.  Literally.  I’ll save you having to look at every single set because THEY ARE PLENTY, but go ahead and clickity click if you’re curious.

Despicable Me, including Margo, Edith, Agnes, Gru, Vector and the Minions.

Alice In Wonderland, including Alice, The Mad Hatter, Cheshire Cat, The White Rabbit and The Queen Of Hearts.

And all ten of the Official Disney Princesses, which includes Cinderella, Snow White, Aurora, Belle, Ariel, Mulan, Pocahontas, Jasmine, Tiana, and Rapunzel.

Because I am no where near ready to admit I have a problem (yeah, this doesn’t feel like rock-bottom to me), my next project is The Wizard Of Oz.  Then Disney Villains.  And then I DON’T KNOW WHAT BUT I’M EXCITED AND OH, GOD SOMEONE KILL ME.

I fromise* I’ll snap out of it soon.  I can see that this is starting to get ridiculous; I’m just not ready to do anything about it yet.  In the meantime, you should probably follow me on Pinterest, where I pin all my best Polyvore boards.  And then we can fully cultivate this problem together.  As a team.

***

* fromise is what you say when you want someone to think you just made a promise, but you didn’t technically promise anything, so you really can’t be held accountable for your actions.

In Ireland, I bought from the locals.  I got a new coat, some new shoes, a few tops.  When I got home, I bought boots.  Boots that weren’t just functional, but were also gorgeous.  I bought skinny jeans, not because I think I’m 15 and 40 lbs lighter than I am, but because in order to tie the boots into the outfit, the jeans must tuck inside.  For Christmas, I asked for work clothes.  New, stylish work clothes, to replace the abundance of turtleneck sweaters and button-up cardigans. 

With much work and more money than I’ve ever spent on clothes in my life, I’ve completely renovated my clothing situation.  For once, I’d be hard-pressed to say “But I’ve got nothing to wear!”  I can, for the first time ever, say that how I dress (90% of the time)(you will tear my after-work track pants from my cold, dead hands) is actually fashionable.  I have a personal style of which I can be proud.

For once, I like getting dressed in the morning.

Thanks to Polyvore, my new OBSESSION, I can show you what I wore this week.  Each board shows my outfits for each day, almost exactly.  It’s like dress up dolls, for grown ups.

Monday

The jeans were darker, almost black, my knee-high riding boots are all black (no brown), my red stripey shirt is longer (to the bottom of my bum), and the feather necklace is a real feather.

Tuesday

So close.  The only differences are that my necklace has a star in the lead role, instead of a wing, and my shoes are nearly exact to these, but matte.  That is the cardigan I own, from Old Navy, if you’re interested.

Wednesday

Again, nearly exact.  My feather necklace, the same one I wore on Monday, is a lariat style, and my shoes are leather(ish).  That’s the sweater I own, from American Outfitters.

Thursday

Thursday was the hardest to duplicate, so bear with me.  My sweater dress is very, very similar to this one, but it has short sleeves, so I wore a brown, long-sleeved t-shirt underneath (my office is cold).  My necklace is one, long strand, and my cross-body bag is much smaller than this one (but I liked this one, and it is a similar colour, so I went with it).  My boots are very similar to these in colour and slouchiness and buckliness, but aren’t exact.  Very, very close.

Friday

Today, I’m wearing a long-sleeved white t-shirt, worn skinny jeans, my brown boots (the same ones from Thurdsday; I chose to use these because, again, similar colour, slouchiness, and they’re buckly), and a green scarf.  I actually like my coat better than this one, but it has the same feel to it.  Dark gray and dressy-ish, but mine is double-breasted with slightly poufy shoulders and a very interesting, wide bottom.  Almost like a skirt.  I’d show you, but then you’d want it and that’s cruel.  I got it in Ireland.

So there we are.  This is how I dress now and I actually, for once, feel confident when I leave my house that I look good.  It took way too long to get to this point, and I recommend you start right now.  Throw away the mom jeans and anything you’ve own for too long.  You don’t need to spend a lot (I got everything, including what I bought overseas, on sale or in discount clothing stores or with gift cards I asked for for Christmas), and you don’t need to do it all at once (this has been a six-month process for me).  And, certainly, you don’t need to discard your comfy clothes.  I am a BIG supporter of comfort – I wouldn’t wear it if I wasn’t comfortable – and have a vast collection of yoga/track/lounge pants I will never part with.  But there is nothing wrong with looking good and pulling an outfit together.  Doing so gives me a different kind of comfort, one I hadn’t known until I invested in a few accessories.

…or Flo Rida’s Good Feeling every time

…or Ice Cube’s You Can Do It for the 10 billionth time since 1999.

I won’t apologize for still thinking Mumford & Sons is a band full of musical geniuses

…or for never understanding the appeal of the Red Hot Chili Peppers

…or the Smashing Pumpkins

…or for thinking that Nirvana was one of the most influential bands of our time, but liking Dave Grohl better in the Foo Fighters.

I won’t apologize for peanut butter and brown sugar sandwiches

…or for donut ice cream sandwiches

…or for adding chocolate chips to everything.

I won’t apologize for track pants

…or fuzzy slippers

…or cotton underwear.

I won’t apologize for singing at the top of my lungs

…or dancing like a fool

…or writing my life on the internet.

I won’t apologize for having too much hair

…or too much backside

…or too much foot.

I won’t apologize for hating warm weather in the winter

…or loving the snow from the warmth of inside my house

…or having heated seats in my car.

I won’t apologize for being quiet

…or for not having an opinion one way or the other

…or for keeping it all inside.

I won’t apologize for liking movies based on comic books the best

…or my frustration toward 3D

…or refusing to watch or read anything Twilight because vampires are dumb.

I won’t apologize for making an exception for True Blood.

I won’t apologize not wearing heels

…or skirts

…or lipstick.

I won’t apologize for being hard of hearing

…or near sighted

…or disliking sports.

I won’t apologize for being me because there’s nothing wrong with who I am.