The Uniform- Part I- The Back Story.
Ok, so among my friends & family, the uniform was an unpopular idea when I first brought it up. Its probably still not very popular with the fashionistas among them.. However, I am sure that everyone will be thrilled to know that it is truly the GREATEST addition to my daily routine, AAND it makes me happy!
Part I- The Back Story.
So the uniform idea came up a few ideas ago- sitting at the beach with some friends and family. While I will NEVER miss the Orlando heat, I was missing my days of a Mouse dictating my outfit for work every day. SO SO easy! It was promptly shot down. I tried to explain my reasons: I change my mind repeatedly on outfits in the morning. Even when I pick out my outfit the night or even Sunday night before. I waste so much time in the morning staring in my closet. I can’t remember what I already wore this week.* I’m not confident in my outfits. All of these reasons were shut down quickly, with very valid responses: be more confident, spend more time on the pre-plan, everyone spends time “getting ready”.
Ugh. Ok, the message was clear:
Just wanting easy made me a Slacker- McSlackerson
I was going to need to woman-up and get my sh*% together!
So the following school year was, how do you say?! CRAZY! Lots of changes in school, lots of extra stuff to do during the day and in my after school job (and I don’t mean that in the “she’s so extra” way – especially since I still have not mastered my understanding of this use of the word). It was interesting to say the least. By the Spring, as a coping mechanism I had fallen back to my quasi-uniform for school clothes- multiple colors of the same elbow tee paired with the various skirts in my closet. In theory, it should have made my life easier, but I was still struggling with the color coordination, the fit of this skirt vs that one, and which shoes I should wear. And then, it happened. On a Wednesday, in June, I remember it well:
(By the way, I am SURE that my class was having a riveting discussion in which I asked an amazingly thought provoking and inspiring question, and of course thought I was going to receive an inspired and thoughtful answer…)
I looked down at my shirt and had to pause- really pause- and think about it… did I? I mean, I knew it was clean because it was hanging in my closet that morning; but when did I wear it last? Did my
mom laundress wash it last night or yesterday? Ugh. After some quick mental recall and a flashback to the shoes that gave me a blister the day before, I realized, nope, not yesterday… but Monday, yes. I wore the same outfit the day before yesterday.
That goes for both: the outfit, and the kiddo calling me on it. Believe me, I am used to the running commentary on all things by all kids in school- “Stop smiling unless you put on some lip liner. Its like your upper lip is being eaten when you smile!”; “Your Patriots Friday thing is lame!” (that sad, out of place Jets transplant- #shouldamovedtophillykid).
Anyway, *if you know me, you know my longstanding joke that 2 outfits per season is all I need and I’m good. Now, of course I WORE more than 2 outfits a week, I didn’t repeat outfits, regardless of the struggle.
(Mom is the bomb and I still and will forever more say THANK YOU to her when she washes my clothes; IT WILL NEVER GET OLD. EVER. THANK YOU MOM!)
However, my younger, more nimble mind was also able to keep track of what I wore earlier in the week. Not hard, I know. BUT- the year of crazy had caught up with me. My nimble mind was mush.
So anyway, I stood in front of my class and was like “Oh, actually… let me tell your already tortured insecure Middle School mind that will continue to haunt you; you’ll have repeated morning battles with yourself- leaving the house feeling discouraged, annoyed, unhappy with how I looked, or what my clothes were saying- trying too hard (for what I really don’t even know?) not trying hard enough (ditto) – did I look too old or frumpy- too young- ‘how old does she think she is?’ ‘how old DO I think I am?’ “
That would have been a GREAT vent session. And I would probably be a full time dog walker right now if it happened. So, I didn’t actually tell my kiddos any of that. Instead, I mentioned something about a washing machine, and then started riffing…something like “What?! This is my favorite shirt! I decided to wear it this week Mon-Wed-Fri… what do you think?” She- and many others in the class- voiced various renditions of displeasure at this idea, and I reminded them that I was not, in fact, their mother, so I was not actually embarrassing them personally and therefore they could get those looks off their faces. (you’d be surprised how often that happens- seriously I don’t know how Mom’s handle it! Sorry Mom! )
And then, when said kiddos left the room, I KNEW next year would be different. It would be Amazing!!!
The uniform was ON!