“Three’s a charm,” “Good things come in threes,” and “The Holy Trinity” all symbolize something I am starting to put a lot of stock in. The number three may just be my lucky number. I mean, if last “leap year” alone isn’t proof, I don’t know what is. Grant started a new job, we closed on our first house, and found out we were expecting our second child – all literally within three weeks of each other. Then, in the just the past three months, my blog baby went from my little fledgling project to being inundated with brand collab opportunities that has me in a position I never thought would come. A place where I can finally turn something I’ve been so utterly passionate about into a real business where I’m in control of my own success or failure.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about these early days of motherhood. Maybe it’s because I’m about to go through it all again with a new baby girl, or maybe it’s just because these pregnancy hormones make me all kinds of sentimental (poor, poor hubs). What I think most about, though, and what I’m officially making as my “Mother’s Day wish,” is how I wish our children could remember the kind of love we have for them in the baby years.
Fresh off a glorious babymoon, I thought it would be fitting to do a bump update since it’s been a couple months, and I haven’t whined at you in a while 😉 J/K, this pregnancy has been fairly uneventful, other than the horrible sinus infection and lovely acne that seems to be way worse with this one – thanks girl. So here goes –
Last week I had started a draft for this blog post with a working title of “Happy Place.” Except a lot’s happened between now and then. As I laid awake after a much needed cry fest last night, the only thing I could think of was that it was time for me to “get real.” Too often we feel the pressures of putting on that happy face, even though we know well and good we are holding back tears or anxieties that eventually come to a head when we’re least expecting it. Last night was one of those times. I was preparing to give my son a bath just like any other night, but this night he insisted on having a “boo boo” that was going to hurt if he put his foot in the water. Oh dear. So for a solid five minutes (felt like 30) I tried every bribe in the book, until tears ensued and dad walked in asking buddy what’s wrong. To which I went off on a lightening speed explanation on why I’m so frustrated after trying to negotiate with a toddler for ten minutes, which results in said dad backing out of the bathroom slowly, very slowly.
I have a lot of mixed feelings on maternity wear. Not because there aren’t a ton of cool brands out there – see Fashion Mamas founder Natalie’s crowdsourced list in LAmag (I may or may not have contributed to the H&M & TopShop picks). I just have a hard time spending money on clothes that will be worn for maybe six months and then disappear in a box somewhere in the back of your closet/no-woman’s land. But on the other hand, shopping for your new-found bump is one of the short-lived perks to being pregnant. So, I made a compromise with myself: I will allow myself to shop for maternity clothes, if and only if they are affordable and fit in a way that makes me feel great about myself (cuz let’s face it – come 32 weeks in, we all need a little pick me up). Plus, there’s nothing like your best friend from college getting married to kick you into hyper-shopping mode.
So I admittedly have always had a hankering to make it to Coachella, and yet in the 7 years we lived in LA I never made the trek. To add even more salt to my wound, this year my awesome Fashion Mamas tribe is hosting their first “Mama Mirage” Coachella event, sponsored by Havaianas (cue sad face). Because I never like to wallow in my own sorrow, I figured what better way than to pay it forward to all my lovely followers. I’ve partnered with SheIn to send 2 lucky persons to Coachella – including airfare and hotel! The winners will also receive makeovers by some of hottest influencers for the entire weekend – seriously how cool is that??
What a week! Our family got hit hard with the stomach flu (sans mom, phew, and because who else is gonna take care of everybody??). Fortunately we are on the mend, but our dryer literally went kaput from me forcing it to do laundry for 6 days straight (so much poo…sorry, tmi).
I’m excited this year to finally be doing a Holiday Edition of CH2T Covets! Since I know outfits don’t just throw themselves together, I’ve listed some tips below to help guide some of your style and gifting choices for the holiday season upon us.
I’ve also featured my most recent addition to the CH2T accessories family – an uber cool JORD wood watch that I’ve paired with a Thanksgiving, Holiday party, and Christmas look. And you’re in luck my friends because I’ve partnered with JORD to offer y’all a Holiday Giveaway. Every person who enters will be instantly emailed a $25 e-gift code to use on their site! So check it out, and don’t be tardy for the party 😉
NEWS FLASH: I turned 35 this week. It felt just like any other birthday, with the exception of one thing – it was one of those “mid” birthdays. Remember the first time you had to refer to yourself as “mid-twenties,” and you realized all those life expectations you set for yourself in your younger years were like one big fat joke played on you by the universe? Saying things like, “I’m totally gonna be married with a kid by the time I’m 25” or “I’m gonna live in a big house with two dogs and an awesome car.” But that’s the beauty of young naivety – you can dream about these things and no one will fault you for it. In fact, your parents even condone it all the while secretly knowing that life is a heck of a lot more unpredictable than you can explain to a teenager.
Let’s just set the record straight. I’m a sucker for anything old. Vintage cameos, antique decor, old towns – you name it, I covet it. It started with weekends spent strolling the quaint streets of Old Town Spring with my parents growing up, where the shops and restaurants make you feel like you’re living in an old west town rather than in the middle of the booming city of Houston. We’d spend hours at our favorite lunch spot, the British Trading Post & Tea Room, where my father bonded with a fellow Brit, Maureen, who ran the place with her daughters and quickly became like family. After moving away, I would plea for Grant to take me back any time we visited home, just to get a glimpse of my childhood memories.