Tales of a polyester shirt

When it comes to clothing, I'm usually a "function > fashion" type of mentality, but every now and then, I splurge on something fun and fashionable. I've been trying out Stitch Fix for a while now, and love some of the things they send that are outside of my normal comfort zone.  I recently purchased a cute polyester top for summer.  It has lace detailing I love, is in a beautiful shade of green, and fits perfectly.  I waited patiently for a day warm enough to wear it, and on Tuesday it happened!

I was preparing for a fun day with the kids.  I was picking up my niece and nephew, then taking them along with my two girls to Jump for Fun, which is a bounce house place.  Then we planned to eat lunch, run some errands, get manicures at Sharky's, and attend a class at the Botanic Garden.  My wonderful husband offered to stay home with the baby while we did this. (My husband is extra awesome because he can watch the baby while working from home.  My baby is awesome because he basically sleeps all day.)  My hopes of showering and styling my hair were foiled, but I did my makeup, and donned the shirt. I would be lying if I said I didn't get a rush of excitement from feeling so 'normal' by wearing a 'real shirt' for a change.

I was late getting out of the house due to my primping, and yes, being late in the morning is pretty unusual for me, but that's ok.  After retrieving the children, I pulled into Starbucks for a morning treat (very unusual!), but aborted the mission when I realized I'd left my gift card at home.  I turned it into a lesson for the kids on being responsible (aka Mommy was not responsible enough to bring money, so Mommy has no treat).  My 4 year-old told me to try again next time.

The bounce houses went well.  I sat on a bench and watched the kids jump.  I chatted with other moms.  I felt proud of my shirt.  I even got a compliment on it!

When we came home for lunch, well. . . I picked up the baby, served food to the kids, and then noticed a small spot on the shirt.  I went to my closet, changed into another shirt, and realized that my new shirt said DRY CLEAN.  Some quick internet research revealed that "dry clean" and "dry clean only" are different.  The former is a recommendation; the latter a command.  I very carefully washed out the spot with Dawn, then hung the shirt outside to dry in the sun.

I went back outside to find the shirt on the ground with oily fingerprints all over it.  I washed it in the sink with more Dawn, discussed in detail with a certain 3 year-old not to touch the shirt, and re-hung it.  When I returned, it looked fabulous!

I put it back on and started getting ready to leave.  I fed the baby a bottle, and picked him up to burp.  He immediately spit up (for like the 3rd time ever in his life!) and it ran down the back of the shirt.

I put the baby down, washed the shirt, hung the shirt to dry, admonished the toddler, and hoped for the best.  I didn't even bother changing shirts this time.  So wearing only a bra, I put the baby down for a nap, packed our stuff, and told the kids to get ready to go.  Luckily I remembered the shirt before getting in the car.  I left for the afternoon wearing a slightly damp shirt with a faint baby-ish odor that still looked amazing.

I later began to lament the "I remember why I can't have nice things" logic, when it dawned on me:  I have something much better than a fancy shirt.
Six things actually:
1. a wonderful husband who takes care of my every need
2. a beautiful daughter who is sweet, insightful, and helpful
3. another daughter, who is funny and loving
4. a charming niece who is kind and creative
5. an active, athletic, and cuddly nephew
6. and an adorable baby with an infectious laugh

So in conclusion, there's nothing wrong with having an awesome shirt, but making the shirt the focus of the day was an utter failure.  I'm sure I'll wear the shirt again, but the oily fingerprints will serve as a reminder to me that we are defined not by what we wear, but by what we love.