I'm going to be doing some soul-baring here. Embarrassing... but oh well.
Last week I went shopping. Oh glorious days of shopping. I was given some gift cards to Nordstroms... fondly referred to as Nordies, for my birthday. I knew exactly what I was going to get. Boots. I've been dying for a pair of cognac boots for the past 2 years. I've researched, looked high and low and the time had finally come to buy them. I left my happy boys at home and headed to the Waterside shops. As I pulled up to the outdoor shopping center I could feel my heart beat a little faster. I drove past Anthropologie, J. Crew, Coach and then finally arrived at Nordies. I parked the car and entered into my old world. If you ask anyone from Austin where I shopped, what I loved, where my default go-to was in the days before Jamon, they'd answer Nordies. And this my friends was the first time I had been inside of a REAL Nordstrom's (not The Rack) in well over a year... maybe two. The chandeliers were beautiful, the piano playing was fabulous and then there where shoes. I meandered around until Mark came to help. I told him which boots I wanted and he happily went to retrieve them. While I was waiting I came across THE most perfect pair of nude shoes. Thank you Michael Kors for knowing how to design. When Mark came back he and I had a long, passionate discussion about the need for said nude shoes. I used phrases like "Ohhh, the perfect replacement for my nude via spigas from a couple years past... so dreamworthy..." blah blah blah. It was like speaking a language from my past, like I had known Chinese, or in this case how to speak about something other than Target t-shirts and how oddly each small doesn't fit the same. Anyway, I browsed the store a bit more, found a pair of jeans that I swear where made for me, someone took my measurements and cut. Glorious. And not to be had. When I called Jamon to ask if I could buy them he gave me a $20 price limit. Well... that could buy the tag... maybe. Off they went and I will be searching ebay incessantly until they show up and I snatch them away from someone else.
After my Nordies experience (seeing and trying on clothes that in reality I could never buy) I was really starting to feel reality set in. This fancy schmancy world was in my past. I don't really get these luxuries any more... but I went to Anthropologie and J Crew anyway... just to look. maybe a good sale was going on. And there was. And as I cradled the most perfect $20 shirt I remembered that Corban was out of diapers. A box costs $20. Diapers or shirt? Diapers. Yep, reality check. I am a Mom... diapers come first. So I left the glorious world of fine clothing and sparkly over-priced goodies and traipsed back home. Not without stopping to get a Starbucks as therapy for my wordly little embarrassingly material self. On the way home I called Trish, she was a sweet heart and listened as I cried, yes cried. (This is where soul baring becomes embarrasing) I cried because I don't even have a remnant of my past "material life." I have changed and my life is different. Praise be to God who has blessed me with an incredible husband and a son who rocks my world. I wouldn't trade them for an endless shopping spree at all the glorious stores in the world. But last week was the first time I realized that for me it was one or the other. Diapers and food for Corban or a cute shirt for me. A pair of shoes for work or food for a week for Jamon. I'll take the diapers and food thank you very much.
So when I got home from this day of shopping and life lessons I was talking it over with Jamon. He doesn't pretend to understand who Michael Kors is or why I prefer to shop where there are chandeliers versus fluorescent lighting... he just nods and laughs. And then in true Jamon fashion says "Well I think you're the hottest mom around in your target t-shirts." and that was that. Target t-shirts it is. I enjoyed my debt ridden past and am thankful for the clothes I still wear from then... but I'm much more thankful and enjoying my life now. Really... how could I roll on the ground and deal with corban sneezing food on me if I was wearing a $100 shirt? T-shirts seem much more acceptable.