The first thing that crosses my mind when someone invites me to a party is, "Oh shit. I have to figure out what to wear!" When it comes to clothing, I have two modes:
(my husband snapped this picture of me while I was pregnant and passed out on the couch after work. Isn't he kind? Also....the socks win.)
When it comes to dates, parties, and girls nights out, I'm a mess. I have no idea how to dress. Seriously. No clue. I have work blouses, cardigan sweaters, and collared shirts galore. I have pencil skirts, pearls, and suit jackets. On the other side of my closet, I have unwashed-for-8-days yoga pants, hooded sweatshirts, kitten pjs, and track jackets.
This is why I hyperventilate upon receiving any social invitation.
But honestly, I should stop worrying. Because as soon as the last drop of my first glass of wine glides down my throat, I'm a total disaster regardless of what I'm wearing.
BUT tonight. For the first time EVER. I felt totally fabulous at a party. Tonight, when I dressed for my husband's work party, it all snapped into place. I wore my favorite grey, shiny skirt and tucked in a glittery tank I purchased the day prior (at Nordys the other day, I decided that I wasn't going to let the world end before I owned a champagne-colored sequin shirt). I paired it with a black cropped cardi and I felt like a party rockstar. Aside from this photo with my unfortunate duck lips pose, I did not get a decent picture of my fabulousness.
Go away Duck Lips! No one likes you!
The party was very nice as well. My husband works with some great people. We even brought the kids. For most of the night, Jacob was running around the room in his christmas socks while Ryan crawled all over the floor sans shoes (my husband dressed him). Ryan ate two whole dinner rolls (it kept him busy so I could shovel food down my duck-lipped mouth). At one point he dropped one of his rolls only to rediscovered it again when I put him on the floor to crawl (#extraprotein, #10minuterule, #secondchildsyndrome). He also snuck under the table and played footsies with coworkers.
Later in the evening, Jacob discovered the art of paper airplanes. And Ryan met a girl who is one year older than he is. She was fascinated by him and wanted to repeatedly touch all over his face and head. Ryan was not a fan. She chased him around the room as he was frantically trying to army crawl away from her. The spectacle was so interesting that a group of adults circled around to watch the entertainment.
Best part of the night? For once, someone was rolling around on the floor grabbing people and it wasn't me.
Also...my husband is growing a beard.
I keep telling him...between his eyebrows and his beard, his face should never be cold!