Project 365 {week 20}

This week was my last “full” week of school.

Two more four-day weeks and it’s all over for another school year.

As usual, we kept busy, but thankfully this week was a bit less so.

May 12: happy low-key mother's day to me!

May 12: happy low-key mother’s day to me!

May 13: Give the kid some boxes and you've got pure joy.

May 13: Give the kid some boxes and you’ve got pure joy.

 

May 14: The Bird took a dive at daycare. Barely cried. Good Lord, we have a rough houser on our hands.

May 14: The Bird took a dive at daycare. Barely cried. Good Lord, we have a rough houser on our hands.

May 15: In an attempt to get out of a major mood funk, happy shoes!

May 15: In an attempt to get out of a major mood funk, happy shoes!

 

May 16: New Rule: You Make the Mess? You Clean the Mess.

May 16: New Rule: You Make the Mess? You Clean the Mess.

May 17: Brothers. Awwww!

May 17: Brothers. Awwww!

 

May 18: Stomp Out Stigma walk for Mental Health with my sister-in-law, Sarah.

May 18: Stomp Out Stigma walk for Mental Health with my sister-in-law, Sarah.

You get a bonus picture today…Something fun…

Oh that's just me...in Babytalk Magazine...ON THE SAME PAGE AS ALANIS MORISSETTE!

Oh that’s just me…in Babytalk Magazine…ON THE SAME PAGE AS ALANIS MORISSETTE!

So you know, I’m in print and stuff.

Woot!

He is Now a Role Model

A couple weeks ago, Cortney made his graduation from college official by participating in commencement. I proudly sat in the super hot field house packed tightly on a folding chair between my sister-in-law (bless her heart sitting there all first-trimestery) and a woman who was not tiny who decided to sit sideways in her seat which means her left thigh/butt cheek was all pressed on my thigh all the while a small boy about Eddie’s age sat backward in his folding chair in front of me swinging his legs and bruising up my shins nicely.

I fanned myself with the program.  You know…the program that had this in it:

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We craned our necks and saw him walk in.  One WOO WOO from Cort’s mom and he knew where we were seated, which meant that later, after all the speakers and honorary what-have-you’s when he was up front waiting to walk across the stage, he and I could exchange big stupid grins from across the huge field house.

Normally, the speeches and everything bore me to death, but I sort of paid attention to the commencement address this time (partly because she polled the audience to see how many people actually remember any of the graduation speeches they have ever heard and I could not raise my hand…which is especially sad not just because I sit through high school graduation every single year, but because some of those speeches? I helped write. Oops).

Anyway, the speech.  Her theme was Everything You Need to Know you Learned at GRCC.  It was cute and quirky and she even interviewed specific students to use their anecdotes. It was nice.

Most of that stuff I don’t remember.

What I do remember is that she told the graduates that they learned to be role models.

She, also a community college grad, related to the graduating class about WHY people choose to go to community college:  some for financial reasons…to get those “gen eds” out of the way on the cheap, but many many are there because of a negative reason: nowhere else would take them.

It brought me back to the night Cort got his honors medal.  Each student awarded was able to say a few words upon acceptance.  One beautiful young girl (young to me, she was probably in her 20′s) took the mic and told us that she had all the staff to thank.  She came to GRCC as a high school dropout who had messed up in every possible way, and now she was graduating with the highest honors the college could bestow upon her.

My eyes teared up.

Cort was not a high school dropout, but he didn’t do his best the first time he did college.  He wasn’t focused, he didn’t know what he wanted out of college, and he was just not ready.  He had been an Ok student in high school, but there you didn’t have to have a focus other than finishing the courses the counselors told you to do.  College was different, and after two years in two different universities, he left for the work world.

Five years ago, he and I sat down to talk about how much he hated his job at the time.  We talked about going back to school.

“For what? Sales? I hate my job,” he lamented.

“If you could get paid to do anything, what would it be?” I asked him (as I have asked innumerable students in the past)

“I don’t know. Computer stuff?”

“There are a million ‘computer stuff’ degrees…and those people make nice money, babe.”

And so off he went.  Full of doubt, but focused.

2013-05-03 19.11.33

In the five years that he was in school, he lost a job and gained a job.

He became a dad.

He lost both grandpas.

He became an uncle.

He gained four new in-laws.

He survived a wife with mood disorders.

He supported his family even when he needed to do homework…and he still got A’s.

He became a role model to many, many people, but mostly to our sons.

One thing our family values is education (in case you didn’t notice).  When we did our “priceless conversation” with our will, we talked extensively about the importance of education.  Of knowledge. Of being a life-long learner.

When I was in 6th grade, my mom decided to pursue a dream of hers and went back to school to study accounting.  She graduated from college the same spring I graded from high school.  That has had an enormous impact on me.  It has fueled my belief that you don’t say no to your dreams.  You don’t say no to a thirst for knowledge.

Cortney’s Gram (along with his Gramps) raised eight children, fostered a bazillion, and loved all those kids’ friends like her own.  She played piano and organ for the church.  She owned her own business (with Cort’s Gramps).  To say she was a busy lady is a massive understatement. Yet, she had a passion for learning and, once the kids were grown,  got her Master’s Degree just because she wanted to.  She was most definitely one of Cort’s role models when it came to making the decision to go back.

2013-05-03 19.55.35

Cort almost didn’t walk.  He was done in December and thought it would be silly to walk in May after he had been done for so long.  And for “just” an Associates.

I needed it to be his decision, but oh how I wanted him to walk.

And then his Gram told him, “You will never regret walking, but you most definitely may regret NOT walking.”

So he did.  And he wanted his Gram to be there, but she came down with shingles two days before commencement and couldn’t come.  But Cort’s mom and sister and wife were there.

2013-05-03 19.55.00

And we cheered so loud when his name was called, he admitted that from the stage, it sounded like more than three people.  SCORE!

I don’t really have the words to tell you how proud I am of Cortney.

He is now one of the role models our sons have for strong people who empowered themselves with education.  Who had a thirst that could only be quenched by books and papers and projects and class discussion.  Who wanted something and figured out how to get it.

why yes, I DID make him put this back on for a picture with the boys.

why yes, I DID make him put this back on for a picture with the boys.

We believe education is important.

And we have the degrees on the wall that prove that belief.

We are role models.

my walls

There is this white wall, above which the sky creates itself-
Infinite, green, utterly untouchable.
Angels swim in it, and the stars, in indifference also.
They are my medium.
The sun dissolves on this wall, bleeding its lights.

People describe me as energetic and fun and easy to talk to and laugh with.

My students are surprised when I tell them I am in my mid-30′s; they expected mid-20′s.

Sometimes, on casual Fridays, my ponytail/hoodie combo paired with my grin and the pep in my step get me mistaken for a student.

I love fiercely.

Most people don’t notice the wall that closes in on me.

On the days when that smile fades as I climb into my car.  As I wish for an early bedtime.  As I dread going home to more people.

On days when I want the world to go away because I just can’t care about your problems anymore. I can’t care about your mundane, whiny facebook updates or your cheery coffee-induced tweets.

I don’t care about feeding the family or doing the dishes.

I don’t care about grading or lesson planning.

I just want to sleep the world away.

The wall moves quickly.

I suffer from Depression.

A grey wall now, clawed and bloody.
Is there no way out of the mind?
Steps at my back spiral into a well.
There are no trees or birds in this world,
There is only sourness.

I post a million happy pictures of me and my sons and my husband.

There is so much love in this family it is overflowing.

Hugs and kisses and flowers and snuggles and drawings of “macaroni and cheese machines”.

But there are also those thoughts that zap in out of nowhere.

My son hit by a rouge car, his body crushed and broken.

My baby floating lifeless in the tub.

Like in the movies, there is a flash, the image, a flash, and back to reality.

I shudder.

But sometimes, there is a flash, the image, and then…it doesn’t stop.  The scenario plays out.  I can’t turn it off as horrified as I am.  I am feeling the horribleness of the reality that is not real.

I do not want this.

I do not want to see this.

I have had intrusive thoughts.**

I want to get over, around, under, away from this wall that is closing in.

I have suffered from Postpartum Depression, Anxiety, and OCD.

This red wall winces continually:
A red fist, opening and closing,
Two grey, papery bags-
This is what i am made of, this, and a terror
Of being wheeled off under crosses and rain of pietas.

I am confident and laid back.

People ask me how I keep it all together.  All the schedules and the achievements.  How do we do it all?

We have gotten degrees while working and having children.

We have great times and throw wonderful parties.

We love each other forever and always.

But there is also the terror that it will crumble.

There is a wall of fear that closes in.

There is the fear that something will happen to take my joy away from me.  That it’s all “too good to be true.”

That is a cliché for a reason, after all.

Other shoe dropping and all.

Where are those shoes?  Are they heavy? Do they look like terminal illness?  Death?  Divorce? Destruction?

A crushing wall.

I suffer from Anxiety.

On a black wall, unidentifiable birds
Swivel their heads and cry.
There is no talk of immorality among these!
Cold blanks approach us: 
They move in a hurry.*

The walls closed in before I even noticed.

They always do.

Thankfully, I am surrounded by people who keep an eye on my walls.

Because when the walls move, they move quickly.  And if no one is watching, they will crush me.

I’ve been squeezed, but those walls have yet to finish me off.

And I am confident that they never will.

*************

I'm Blogging for Mental Health.

*From the poem “Apprehensions” by Sylvia Plath

**I have never acted on these intrusive thoughts.  Intrusive thoughts do not always mean feeling like you want to harm your loved ones, but in my case it was the playing out the scenarios if they did get hurt.

The Unassuming Mother’s Day

I have so many words in my head and heart for Mother’s Day.

So many mothers I would love to write about and give words to so they know what impact they have had on me…and how they continue to inspire me every single day.

So many different types of moms: laid back ones, working moms, stay at home moms, teacher moms, best friend moms, groovy moms, trendy moms, veteran moms, newbie moms, optimistic moms, realistic moms, dreamy moms, dreamer moms, hot moms, sad moms, hurting moms, waiting-to-be moms, past moms, present moms, my mom.

All beautiful.

All deserving of something extraordinary.

But this year there was no fanfare.

And I was glad for it.

There was no running around to all of the mothers and trying to thank every mother who has ever mothered me or inspired me to mother.

There was sleeping in.

There were boys pouncing on the bed.

There were new jammies that someone (ahem…EDDIE) had already told me about.

There were cards…one in particular with a “macaroni and cheese machine” drawn on it.

There were wet kisses and tight hugs.

There was fighting and whining and pooping in diapers and barging into the bathroom.

There were groceries gotten and laundry done.

There was feeding of hungry boys.

There was grading of long-overdue tests.

There was a bubble bath.

There was rocking.

There was wearing sweat pants all day.

There was this…

008

Smile as hard as you can.

And hold on even harder than that.

Mother.

So much power in that title.

I hope I do justice to it.

Project 365 {week 19}

WHEW!

May 5: Listen To Your Mother Show in Chicago with a couple of my favorite Jens.

May 5: Listen To Your Mother Show in Chicago with a couple of my favorite Jens.

May 6: First steaks on the grill.  Cortney was VERY proud of the grill lines.

May 6: First steaks on the grill. Cortney was VERY proud of the grill lines.

 

May 7: Teacher Appreciation Day

May 7: Teacher Appreciation Day

May 8: Tulip Time Parade with my little Dutch boys.

May 8: Tulip Time Parade with my little Dutch boys.

 

May 9: Another evening of Tulip Time...this time dinner from the street vendors.

May 9: Another evening of Tulip Time…this time dinner from the street vendors.

May 10: Three hours to myself to get my hair cut and colored. Bliss.

May 10: Three hours to myself to get my hair cut and colored. Bliss.

 

May 11: Celebrating one of my best friends for her birthday.  So many laughs with this one.

May 11: Celebrating one of my best friends for her birthday. So many laughs with this one.

During this time of year, life has a tendency to feel like we are racing so fast we may start to tumble all over ourselves…

but it’s the kind of too fast and tumbling that you giggle through because the “end” is so close.

Happy Mother’s Day.

How I do Blogging Completely Wrong

The other day I tweeted that I have been doing this blogging thing for almost six years.  Six years is a long time to stick with anything, especially when you tend to be a quitter like I am.  I tend to start things all gung ho and then after a strong start it pitters away due to lack of time and interest.

But not my blog.  Nope. I started Sluiter Nation in 2007 and I’m still going strong.

Except, I’m not really doing it right.  In fact, according to most of the blog tips I’ve read in 6 years and all the tip-type posts I’ve pinned (and even written myself), I’m doing it COMPLETELY wrong.

Oh I’ve learned a lot about how to do it “right” over the past six years…and sometimes I’ve even tried, but well, I just can’t stick with all these rules.

I compiled a list of rules and how I fail at them.  This way you will be able to judge me accordingly…heh.

Comment, Comment, Comment! – The first rule of blog club is to talk all about blog club.  Everyone knows that reading other blogs and actually commenting when you visit is what helps your visibility in the blog world and builds relationships.  Those things make people want to come to your space.

I used to be SO good at this, but somewhere in the last year of having TWO children and a full-time job, not only do I struggle with trying to read the blogs I love, but I almost certainly don’t have time to comment.  People are going to forget Sluiter Nation exists if I don’t get out of this spot and wander out and say something in other spaces, but right now, I just don’t have time.

Be Social! – Speaking of being all over and visible, I have definitely neglected The Twitter, The G+, even The Facebook (not my personal one, but my blog one). I try to share my stuff and other people’s stuff and interact, but oh my goodness!  Most days I am either teaching and don’t have time, and most evenings I fall asleep while putting Eddie to bed.

Be Consistent! - I used to have a fairly solid posting schedule.  I would write in the evenings, schedule for midnight, and promote as I could throughout the day.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I post two, maybe three times a week lately.  I write when I can, and save often instead of pounding out a post in one sitting.  I usually hit publish when I am done writing instead of scheduling.  I am not even a little bit consistent lately.

Offer Partial Feeds in Readers! – Theoretically this drives traffic to your site because people HAVE to click through.  I’ve never done that because it annoys me.  I like to read posts in my reader…especially if I am on my phone.  So to all of you who read me in a reader, I get it. I’m not going to change to partial feeds.

Learn SEO! – What? Oh Search Engine Optimasomething?  Yeah, keywords, meta somethings, and making yourself come up in searches and having Google “read” your site.  Um, I installed All In One SEO Pack over a year ago. I still don’t know what I am doing.  (and I sort of don’t care).

Make Your Posts “Pinnable”! – I have a hard enough time coming up with a picture for every post (as of typing this, I don’t have one for this post.  Unless caffeine is pumped into my veins or I do speed in the next 20 minutes, it’s probably not going to happen).  And when I do manage to get a photo up and pin it to mah boards, it goes nowhere.  Nobody repins it.  I mean, I don’t blog about fashion or food or quick tips or anything.  I’ve had others tell me that you just have to be on the right “community boards”. I don’t even know what that means.

Comment on YOUR Comments! – Oh sweet readers…how I wish I had more time for this.  I definitely choose commenting on your comments here over commenting on other blogs, but you see…time is a poop-face.  Mostly because I don’t have any. I know people like to see interaction. I do.  And I know it helps people want to come back, but if I have to sit and think of a response, I feel like I am doing it just to do it.  I also want to give genuine responses, not something canned and there only for the sake of doing it because I “should”.

Almost six years of blogging…I feel like I should be doing this thing better.

Or maybe not.

I started this blog to avoid mass emails updating family and friends about us.  And then I learned I loved to write.  Then you guys found your way here and it was more than just a little journal, it was something people read RIGHT NOW, not only something my children will read SOMEDAY.

So maybe I am actually doing it just right.

Moving Forward

“You seem to be in a place where you can now decide if you are done,” she started to say as I started to shake my head, “or if you want to cut way back on our visits.”

I started picking at the seam of my pants with uncertainty.

Three years ago I finally told my doctor something wasn’t right and got help. Two years ago I started talk therapy with Dr. Melissa.

One year ago I had a relapse with my postpartum depression.

But I have been feeling really good the past month or so.  Like really good.  Like…dare I say…”normal”?

My last visit to my psychiatrist was approximately 3 minutes long.  There was nothing to discuss other than he didn’t need to see me again for 12 weeks and here are the refills on your prescriptions until that time. Have a great summer.

And then there was the therapy visit.  We talked about being in a good place.  We talked about putting my care back to my GP and away from the psychiatrist. And then she said that thing. About being possibly done.

That can’t be right. I can’t be done. Not yet.  Not with so much uncertainty out there.  I mean…what if I have another break down?  What if the day after we decide I am done, I need her?  I need therapy?  I need…to not be done?

Last week, eight days after that therapist appointment, I read a post by a blogger that encouraged her readers to come here…to this place…to Sluiter Nation…to learn “how to move forward” after having a postpartum mood disorder.

Me?  Showing how to move forward?  How to pick up the pieces and go on with your life?  That is a big responsibility.  That is a big compliment that I could possibly be well enough now to be a role model for Life After PPD.

Is that me?

Am I now in a place that is Beyond PPD?

I still take my medication.  I still have anxiety attacks, but I know how to spot them coming and what to do about them before I am throwing potato chip bags at my poor, confused husband.

However I can’t remember the last time I had a depressed episode.  I’ve had funks that I have been in, but nothing that I would say qualified as actually being depressed.

I have never thought of myself as being “past” that phase until this weekend. For one, I realized Charlie is almost 14 months old–I am not considered “postpartum” anymore.  I know that seems like a mundane thing…like a “who cares” kind of label that was just shed, but it’s sort of a big deal to me.  I’m out of that “first year” phase.  Any of my mood stuff is not associated with “postpartum” anymore.

And I do still have mood stuff.

Friday night after Cort’s graduation ceremony we were herding the kids home waaaay past their bedtimes and I was struggling with some breathing exercises because I could feel the panic of a full weekend ahead of us rising in my chest.  Instead of giving in to it I just informed Cort that I was struggling, but that things would be Ok.

He tried to tell Eddie to stop talking so it wouldn’t bother me, but I recognized that while his incessant constant chatter was bothering me, he was just being a three-almost-four-year-old who hadn’t seen his parents in over 12 hours.  I said, “it’s ok. He can talk,” and I closed my eyes, leaned my face against the cool window, and breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth.

When we got home, I went right to the bathroom to collect myself.  I put my jammies on and heard Cort insisting Eddie go downstairs and wait for him while he put Charlie to bed.  Eddie was not having it (you know, because he was over-tired and missed his parents).  I weakly called out, “I’ll put him to bed.”

Cort was insistent, “you don’t feel good. I can do it. Really.”

(Side note:  That guy takes SUCH good care of me.  I am a lucky lady.)

I pulled myself together and went downstairs to where Cort was helping Eddie with brushing his teeth.  “Really, babe.  I want to.  It’s just laying by him.  That is what I should do if I feel bad anyway.”

So Eddie finished up and we hopped into bed 90 minutes past his bedtime.  We chatted quietly for about 5 minutes, he announced he couldn’t sleep and within 2 more minutes he was sawing logs with an open mouth breathing heavily into my face.

I smiled.

I pulled his blankets up a bit further, kissed his smooshy cheek, and told him I loved him.

And then I was fine.  The anxiety attack had passed.  I could handle the busy weekend.

It was just one weekend.

And the busy was good busy.  We would have such awesome experiences.

It’s Monday morning during my planning hour.  I am tired.  Over-tired.  Normally this would be the first step to depressed, but I don’t feel it this time.

I just feel tired.

So I will go to bed on time tonight–probably not post anything here tomorrow–and get a good night sleep.

And I will be myself again tomorrow.

I still have anxiety.  I still deal with OCD. I will still have depressive episodes.

But I am beyond PPD.  I am more myself now than I have been in four years.

Am I ready to be done with talk therapy?  No.

But I am willing to cut down to once a month and move my prescriptive care back to my GP from my psychiatrist.  And even though that might sound like a boring little tidbit, it’s sort of a big deal to me.

It means that I haven’t just shed the label of postpartum, I have also gained more of myself back.

And that is a big deal.

*************

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Project 365 {week 18}

Oh look.

I didn’t forget that I had a blog.

Yeah, sorry about the light week.

Or, if you are behind in reading, you’re welcome. I totally did it on purpose.

For YOU.

Ahem.

Anyway.  The week.

April 28: So this happens now.

April 28: So this happens now.

April 29: One of our family fave recipes. Nothing about this is healthy or organic or paleo or whatever. It's just yum.

April 29: One of our family fave recipes. Nothing about this is healthy or organic or paleo or whatever. It’s just yum.

 

April 30: I had a terrible day.  But this guy? He has spooky glasses.

April 30: I had a terrible day. But this guy? He has spooky glasses. Game on, indeed. Also…Bird legs photo bomb.

May 1: How we celebrate the first day of May: hot dogs on the grill with white.  Nothing but class up in here.

May 1: How we celebrate the first day of May: hot dogs on the grill with white. Nothing but class up in here. And Bird arm photo bomb. Kid gets around.

 

May 2: Just a quick stop at our local wooden shoe factory. Wait. You DON'T have a local wooden shoe factory? Weirdsies.

May 2: Just a quick stop at our local wooden shoe factory. Wait. You DON’T have a local wooden shoe factory? Weirdsies.

May 3: Graduation day!

May 3: Graduation day! (hey, what about blue shirt photo bomb back there?)

 

May 4: Our Godson turns five and throws a Nerf Day Party. Battle on, yo!

May 4: Our Godson turns five and throws a Nerf Day Party. Battle on, yo!

I almost had an anxiety attack this week thinking about all that was on the calendar.

And today I will be in Chicago for the Listen to Your Mother show.

So much going on.

All good, but…so much.

Also four weeks (18 days) left of school.

Not that I am counting.

I am totally counting.

Happy Cinco De Mayo, kids.

Do You Want to Play Basketball?

“You guys wanna play basketball with me?”

He stood on the very edge of our lawn in his shorts and hoodie holding a small basketball.

The other bigger kids continued to chase each other and play.  One kid lingered on the edge of their lawn near to where Eddie was standing.

“Hey! Do you guys want to play basketball with me?!?” He asked louder.

Even though the one kid was hanging near, he still managed to effectively ignore my little guy.

Eddie looked down at his Little Tikes basketball. I couldn’t see his face from my place by the kitchen window, but I could guess at the questions going through his mind. Why won’t they answer me?  Why wouldn’t they want to play with  me?

“HEY! WANT TO PLAY BASKETBALL WITH ME?!?!”

I called Cort to see.  Eddie was obeying the rules and staying in our yard.  He even kept checking his feet to make sure they were not over the line.  I could tell he was antsy to go run and play tag.

Earlier that day we had heard him yelling outside in the front yard, when we peeked out the window, he was yelling down the street, “HEY!  GUYS!  COME HERE!  I WANNA TALK TO YOU!” to the kids playing down the road.

We live on a dead end where the neighbor kids like to spend time digging holes for no other reason than to dig holes.  Eddie likes to watch them.  They also cut into the woods from the dead end and trek back to the field behind our house.  There’s a creek back there and they like to catch crayfish and frogs.  This particular afternoon, Digger Boy (the boy who digs the holes, and yes, this is the name Eddie refers to him as) and his brothers had a bucket of fish and frogs and they came into our yard to show Eddie and Cort.  Eddie thought it was just wonderful.

So for the rest of the day, when he saw neighbor kids, he wanted so badly to play with them.

They are all at least five years older than Eddie is, and have no interest in playing with a three-year-old.

But Eddie doesn’t understand this, and so he stands on the edge of the yard, doing his best to make friends without breaking the rules of leaving the yard.

“I’m going to put on shorts and go play basketball with him for a bit,” Cort tells me as he rubs my back.  I have been watching him with tears in my eyes for a couple minutes.

“Thank you,” I tell him before I call out the window to Eddie asking him if Daddy can play with him.

“Daddy?  He wants to play basketball?  Yay!  I want to play too!”

As I got Charlie’s jammies on I heard lots of giggling and chasing going on around the house before Cort and Eddie burst in all smiles and exhaustion.

Eddie is so bold and makes friends so easily.  He is so much braver than I was at that age.  I am so proud when I see him feeling comfortable talking to other kids, but I feel those old fears of rejection that I clung too tightly to as a child.

Luckily for me, Cort reads my worry and nerves and jumps in before Eddie’s feelings can be hurt.

Besides, I think Eddie prefers to hang with his Dad rather than some dumb neighbor kids any day.

2013-04-27 13.36.23

Cort and Eddie build a fence.

My #TeacherStyle

There are not a ton of pictures of my parents when they were young, but the ones I do find I love to pour over and giggle at the fashions.

(Or, you know, ask my mom if she still has those shoes from 1972 because OMG they would look so awesomely vintage/thrifted with a certain skirt.)

My mom worked part time in a grocery store’s meat department when I was a tiny tot, so she didn’t have to dress “business casual” for anything, although I so very much wish I had a record of all her Sunday outfits. I remember some of them quite distinctly, and my mom usually wore something I thought was very hip or beautiful.

This school year, I have been sporadically participating in Instagram’s #OfficeFashionShow and #TeacherStyle memes.  It’s fun to post what I wear to school and get inspiration from other’s about different looks, color combos, etc.

Plus I think about how much my kids will die laughing when they look back at these pictures someday.

I don’t consider myself to be a super stylish person, and I am for SURE not a Fashion Blogger, but I do like to try to look nice and have the clothes I wear reflect my personality.

Anyway…here are some of the shots I got this school year.  I took them all with my phone in my own shaky hands. And yes, they are all in the staff bathroom.  It’s the only place in my life with a full length mirror (mental note: get a full length mirror at home):

This is one of my favorite shirts. Not because it's my most cute shirt, but because it is SO comfy. It's from the Gap. skirt and leggings from Old Navy.

This is one of my favorite shirts. Not because it’s my most cute shirt, but because it is SO comfy. It’s from the Gap. skirt and leggings from Old Navy.

Another fave: skirt and leggings from Old Navy, shirt from NY & Co.

Another fave: skirt and leggings from Old Navy, shirt from NY & Co.

 

Fridays mean school spirit day! Go Wolves!

Fridays mean school spirit day! Go Wolves!

sweater is from The Gap, pants from NY&Co

I think this was a parent/teacher conference day: sweater is from The Gap, pants from NY&Co

 

Brrr. We had a cold, snowy winter.  Coat is Michael Kors from Younkers

Brrr. We had a cold, snowy winter. Coat is Michael Kors from Younkers

Oh this purple sweater. Since I wore all maternity clothes last school year, I forgot I had this for MONTHS. Both pants and sweater from Gap.

Oh this purple sweater. Since I wore all maternity clothes last school year, I forgot I had this for MONTHS. Both pants and sweater from Gap. Also stink eye.

 

I love this sweater's color, but it needs a "shave". Getting pilly. Ew. It's from...you guessed it...the Gap.

I love this sweater’s color, but it needs a “shave”. Getting pilly. Ew. It’s from…you guessed it…the Gap.

my first pair of skinny jeans!  They are from a Zulily Sale.  Vest and red shirt...yup...Gap.

my first pair of skinny jeans! They are from the Gap. Vest and red shirt…yup…Gap.

 

Casual Friday, yo. probably Gap jeans.

Casual Friday, yo. probably Gap jeans.

Again with the black skirt and leggings.  The sweater is from NY&Co and the scarf was a handmade gift.

Again with the black skirt and leggings. The sweater is from NY&Co and the scarf was a handmade gift.

 

Sweater dresses were my thing this year.  This one was from Yonkers.

Sweater dresses were my thing this year. This one was from Yonkers.

Another great sweater from the Gap. Eddie loves green, so he picked this one for me.

Another great sweater from the Gap. Eddie loves green, so he picked this one for me.

 

Sweater dress!  From the Gap.

Sweater dress! From the Gap.

The red sweater again with a skirt from Anne Taylor Loft.

The red sweater again with a skirt from Anne Taylor Loft.

 

A different black skirt--this pencil one from NY&Co--with a top I got from Zulilly

A different black skirt–this pencil one from NY&Co–with a top I got from Zulilly

Trying to think spring...even though it's still cold. Grey pants and white top from the Gap.

Trying to think spring…even though it’s still cold. Grey pants and white top from the Gap.

 

Crabby day.  Bad hair. These pants I got from the Gap about 3 years ago and I have always loved them.  They will be retired after this year because of a stain and because they are just looking tired.

Crabby day. Bad hair. These pants I got from the Gap about 3 years ago and I have always loved them. They will be retired after this year because of a stain and because they are just looking tired.

black skinnies from a Zulilly sale and green sweater from Old Navy.

black skinnies from a Zulilly sale and green sweater from Old Navy.

 

White linen pants (COME ON, SPRING!) from Gap. not sure where the orange shirt came from.  We'll just say Gap because, well, that is the trend here.

White linen pants (COME ON, SPRING!) from Gap. not sure where the orange shirt came from. We’ll just say Gap because, well, that is the trend here.

The pants that will be retired and a black shirt from, yes, you know.

The pants that will be retired and a black shirt from, yes, you know.

 

It's all Gap.

It’s all Gap. (except the shoes and necklace)

I don’t know if it’s obvious or not, but we have a Gap Outlet about 5 minutes away from my house.  I realize I need to branch out, which is why I have become sort of obsessed with Zulily*. I’d say 98% of the things I get from Zulily are awesome because they are unique and trendy.  Love that.

I am also noticing I need more accessories.  Because duh.

Anyway, this is what I look like as a teacher in 2013.  Maybe I will do a spring/summer version of this post in a few months.

So what are you wearing these days?

*that is an invite link that if you sign up and purchase via that link, I get like free shipping or something.

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