Rock Star, Skater or Goth?

*please note Tucker sending the vibe in the middle picture*

I am starting realize how hard it is to dress boys. I feel like I am constantly needing to buy pants for the poor kid, and they are still always short (heaven help me when puberty hits!). Especially in the church pants department. As much as I hate to admit it, the boy has basically been sporting khaki capris for the past month. So when I spotted these black corduroys, I grabbed them without much examination.

Fast forward to the next Sunday. We are at the in-laws' house, doing our normal Sunday morning scramble. Jared is getting the kiddos dressed while I am running around shoving treats and books into my purse. As they come upstairs, I notice Jared is perspiring slightly. In response to my curious look, he demands to know the reason I bought HIS SON skinny jeans. Not only did he break a sweat trying to wrestle our chunky, ever moving kid into them, he thinks they make him look like a teenage skateboarding punk. Whhhhaaaaaa???

My sister in law later admitted she thought Tucker had taken a turn in the Gothic direction.

Upon first look, I will admit they did look silly. I didn't notice how tapered they were when I bought them. Since then, however, I have decided I love them. They are stinkin' hilarious! I prefer to call them his rock star pants. Not only do I like the way they look now, they restrict his leg movement. Anything that helps me catch him easier gets a gold star in my book!

Every time I put them on him, Jared objects. I innocently explain they are his only church pants that fit right now. I tend to leave out the fact that the desperate search for church pants has dramatically slowed...if not stopped for the time being : )

In other news, in exactly one month I will have a 1 year old. Cue baby hunger.......

Life Reset...

So you know that feeling you get when you walk through the door of your own home after being gone for any extended period of time. I LOVE that feeling- the familiar sights, sounds, smells...just knowing I am in my own space gives me the warm fuzzies.

The kids and I have basically been gone for a month now, with the exception of a few days we spent at home in between trips. We just got home, opened the door (kids and luggage in tow) and took a (what should have been) deep, cleansing, relaxing breath of my home...only to be overwhelmed by an incredible stench- which appeared to be emanating from my pantry.

I feared something had literally crawled in there and died. Turns out I was half right. Something had indeed "died", but it was something I had put in there and forgotten about. A sack of potatoes to be exact.

I kind of feel like those nasty, juicy potatoes represent what I have allowed life to become for me. I need to take back control.

I need to organize. The wreck that destroyed so much happened over a year ago. No longer a valid excuse to have a hoarder's garage. We need to throw away broken belongings once and for all!

I need to exercise. My baby is almost a year old, those last 6-8 lbs have to go. The slight postpartum "issues" I have had need to be replaced with positive, esteem building thoughts.

I need to make my house a home. We have been in this beautiful house for 10 months...put some stinkin' pictures on the wall already, Lindsey!

I need to clean...no excuses!

And possibly most importantly, I need to make friends. I have used all of the aforementioned excuses as reasons for my complete lack of a social life. I need me time. Not a ton, but enough to keep me sane.

I am officially pushing the reset button on my life. Possibly pounding it. I am completely done with sitting on my rear waiting for things to change...when I am the one that needs to change them. I had a month to collect myself, regain perspective and now I am ready to give myself a life makeover.

And I am going to starting by scrubbing off the bottom shelf of my pantry- thank you juicy potatoes!