I miss you

I miss you…

I didn’t realize just how much I really missed you until I was in the store shopping for Easter gifts for the kids and a lady walked by me. She reminded me of you in so many ways, but the first thing that got me was her perfume.

The perfume she was wearing is one that you wear or wore at one time. It lingered around every corner and aisle that I walked. As soon as I got away from it she was just around the next corner and it the familiar scent was back pulling at me… my heart… and my memories of what was.

She was probably close to your age. She too was shopping for the upcoming holiday…. maybe for her grandkids.

She was shorter than you but a similar share and she styled her hair like you did when it was shorter. She had her face fully made up… just like you. Never leaving the house without makeup.

There was so many things about her that reminded me of you. So many memories came back… it was good to remember and at the same time it was painful because you’re not part of our lives like that.

I miss you. More than you will probably ever know.

For a little while I had you back there with me and it was like we were shopping together again for the kids like we did once so many years ago. Funny thing… it was for Easter too, right after Lauren was born. 11 years ago.

It was an emotional shopping trip and I did what I could to hold my emotions in check and move on with what I was there to do. I was sort of glad when the lady left.

She left, but the memories are still there.

I wish you’d come back.

I wish you were a regular part of my life…. part of my kids lives.

Do you miss me?

Do you miss your grandkids?

I miss you.

I’m linking up with Shell from Things I Can’t Say this week for Pour Your Heart Out. My intention was to start sharing some of the pictures and all that from our week in Florida & time at the Disney Parks but I just couldn’t come up with anything. Not with this pulling at my heart. It’s hard when your mom isn’t part of your life… it’s hard when you know that she is out there living her life. It’s even harder when you have no idea why you’re not part of her life anymore… whether you did or said something wrong. No matter how old you get your mom is important… mine is important. I just don’t know how to mend things… especially when I don’t know what’s broken.


A Letter to What Not To Wear

I’m on vacation!!
Today I have the wonderful Missy Stevens here to entertain you! I am really excited to have her here because at the last minute I asked if anyone wanted to guest post and she answered my plea immediately! I couldn’t be more thankful! So without further ado please give Missy a warm & magical welcome and leave her lots of love!
Dear Stacy and Clinton,
I love What Not To Wear. I like watching people discover their style and figure out what flatters them. I’m insanely jealous of the $5,000 gift cards that must be spent on new clothes and shoes. And I love the aha moment when it clicks for some participants and they realize that, shallow though it may be, the truth is: many people won’t bother to judge you based on the insides if the outsides look like you robbed Goodwill during a bad trip.
If I love the show so much, why do you sense a but coming? Because you’re smart and intuitive, that’s why.
You have a good show, but you are overlooking an important segment of the population: Moms, during the summer months. Personally, here in central Texas your tips are perfect from November through March. But every year I fight a seven-month battle of style vs. sweat.
Let’s discuss.
You always recommend layers, like adding a cardigan or light jacket to an outfit. In July in Austin, the only thing I’m layering is regular deodorant on top of clinical strength deodorant.
While I might be able to throw on a light sweater inside a movie theater or a restaurant – no, I’m going to stop right there. You know what kinds of movies and restaurants moms patronize in the summer? Kid friendly kinds.
The shear physicality of wrestling kids in and out of high chairs, rescuing them from the top of the Chick-Fil-A play area, or simply having them sit in your lap during a movie (so sweet, so much body heat) leaves moms soggy. And that sweater we threw in our purse in case the theater was cold? We just used it to wipe up spilled juice.
I cannot accessorize in the summer. Can’t do it. About the time I have my kids buckled in their car seats, I’m ripping off my jewelry and throwing it in my purse. Forget about belts. They only create upstairs and downstairs lines of demarcation for the pooling perspiration.
In my purse right now: a multi-strand beaded necklace, worn approximately 13 minutes before I had a matching sweat necklace; a chunky, red bracelet that looked fantastic with my blue and white striped tee shirt and white pants, until a puddle formed under the bracelet; a pair of dangling earrings that became stuck to my neck, due to – you guessed it – sweat that was mixed with sunscreen, forming a glue-like paste that attached the lovely earrings to my neck.
In this one area we’re probably okay. I don’t want any leather or other toasty material wrapped around my ankles. Hello, ankle sweat. But as long as I can chase down a rogue toddler in them, I don’t take issue with stylish shoes in the heat.
Wrap Dresses
I single out wrap dresses, and their faux sisters, for a couple reasons. One, I redirect you to the discussion of belts (see above) and two, they are often made of jersey or some equally clingy material. Clingy material in 100 degree heat: unless you’re into bondage, it’s not comfortable.
Hair and Makeup
Oh, forget it. Hair goes in a ponytail. Faces get sunscreen and waterproof mascara.
In conclusion, I am hot. I am sweaty. I look terrible. I would love to be fashionable and put together every day. But when I do take the time to look like a million bucks, the Texas heat renders me a damp $2 bill in seven minutes or less.
Stacy and Clinton, I beg you: help the summertime mom.
Yours Always, In Fashion and Out, And Very Rarely Wearing Yoga Pants In Public, I Promise,
Missy Stevens
Sweaty Mom
Missy Stevens writes, blogs, raises a couple boys with a very good man, and fails at homemaking in Austin, Texas. She’s a reformed social media addict, meaning she’s only on Facebook and Twitter part of every day now. You can also find her once a week or so on her blog, Wonder, Friend.