We're going to a wedding in Paris next month. Talk about perfect dress pressure!
I was in a mood I'm not proud of today - a cross-eyed, bad-breathed garbage man could have volunteered to watch the baby, and I might not have blinked. I left my Carter to play at a drop-in daycare for an hour and went on a hunt at David's Bridal for something like this:
Instead, I found a bunch of duds. I'm feeling defeated.
Don't worry, the white dress wasn't even a consideration. I was just dying to see what the style looked like. Pretty and girlie, but not flattering.
The alone time wasn't as satisfying as I'd anticipated. Maybe it was the floppy dresses that dampered my mood. It felt nice to have Carter glued to my hip again. I took him to a department store; we wandered around the shoe department, and he charmed all the ladies.
You just know your kid's a cutie when he pauses his purposeful toddles to present a stranger with little Hi waves (that I've seen hundreds upon hundreds of times). Still hits me straight in the heart. He's at a great age. It's so fun to watch everyone's faces as we pass. They all want to stuff him in their shopping bags, take him home and give him kisses.