In the spirit of my pledge to offer you yay, even MORE boring information (YOU JUST CAN’T GET THAT KIND OF PROMISE ANYWHERE, PEOPLE – OH NO YOU CAN’T), I would now like to talk to you a bit about Alex’s clothes.

I’m not even kidding.

Because recently – just since his 4th birthday – Alex has grown approximately five feet. Give or take a few dozen inches.

And the little man, who was a perfect size 4T back in March, has now morphed into a child who needs a size 5 in every single thing he wears. Which, under normal circumstances, could get a little expensive.

If I didn’t have the bins.

Stay with me.

Back in 2004, when Alex was a little over a year old, we went to Memphis to visit my brother’s family for a week or so. Because they had recently moved into a new house with a whole new decorative “look,” they pretty much opened up their attic and told me to take whatever I wanted, and I am not kidding you when I say that I had to rent a U-Haul trailer to get it all back to my house. It was so much stuff that I actually hummed the theme song to “The Beverly Hillbillies” as I pulled out of their driveway – I felt like Ellie Mae Clampett, only with sassier hair and absolutely no trace of midriff showing.

And, you know, my car had a roof.

And I didn’t have a pet raccoon.

And also: I was not wearing a piece of rope as a belt.

But of all the things that I brought home that day – rugs, breakfast room chairs, an ottoman, even a king size bed (I AM NOT KIDDING) – the very best treasure of all was enclosed in about seven plastic storage containers.

Because inside those storage containers? My nephews’ “gently worn” hand-me-down clothes (thanks again, Janie and Brother!).

And so, once I got home, I emptied the containers and sorted everything on the dining room table according to size.

Here’s what it looked like at the time:

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As you can clearly see, Gap exploded in my dining room.

After everything was sorted, I washed the clothes, folded them, and put them back in “the bins” according to size – 18-24 months, 2T, 3T, 4T, and 5.

Which means that this past Saturday morning, instead of going to Old Navy or Gap or Kohl’s or wherever and having to spend a bunch of money to get Alex outfitted for summer (underwear, swimsuits, t-shirts, shorts, church clothes), I walked into my garage, pulled out the size 5 bin, carried it inside the house and went shopping in my living room.

It was SO MUCH FUN. And it didn’t cost one dime.

Yesterday afternoon I washed everything again, put away all the size 4 stuff that was in Alex’s closet, and LOOK!

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It’s a size 5 paradise!

And by the way: if you had told me, before I had a baby, that the sight of a colorful wicker basket filled with an entire summer’s worth of shorts would make me want to jump up and down just a little bit, I would’ve rolled my eyes and quickly resumed watching the “Real World / Road Rules Challenge” marathon while simultaneously painting my toenails and talking on the phone.

But now?

Well.

I think the fact that I took pictures of the inside of my child’s closet says it all.

ISN’T IT EXCITING?

And did y’all notice that I’m not crying about the fact that there’s not a “T” behind his clothes size anymore?

Because I totally think I should get some kind of certificate for that.

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SEVEN-NINETY-NINE, my friends.

And I know y’all are gonna be SO SHOCKED that I bought something with an orange, lime green and hot pink pattern.

I am nothing if not predictable.

Anyway, I promise I’ll quit showing y’all pictures of my summer clothes. I can’t even imagine how it must make you want to go sit in a corner, hold your knees, and rock back and forth very slowly until I JUST STOP IT, ALREADY.

But y’all. It was SEVEN-NINETY-NINE.

Plus, a cute skirt with a white t-shirt is my favorite summer ensemble, so I was oh-so-tickled to find this skirt – along with two others that are a smidge more subtle – in Ross today.

And just FYI for all you bargain shoppers: the George stuff at Walmart is adorable right now. They have some wrap dresses that are cute as can be, and I would totally buy one if I had any tolerance at all for the way the fabric accentuates my stomach flab. Not to mention my back fat.

(Is four years too long to use the “I had a baby” excuse to justify stomach flab and back fat? I think maybe so. But still, I did have a baby.)

(Also, I had a lot of fried things. And, I have to say: they were delicious.)

Happy Mother’s Day!

Hey.

You know those people who hate to shop? Who dread looking for new clothes with every fiber of their beings?

I’m SO not one of them.

Not by a long shot.

And this morning, my husband said, “why don’t you go buy something for yourself? Something pretty. Some clothes for vacation.”

Mainly it was because he would rather put nails in his eyes than try to buy clothes for me – especially for Mother’s Day – but his approach worked perfectly for me because HELLO, HE TOLD ME TO GO SHOPPING. BY MYSELF. WITHOUT OTHER PEOPLE. ALONE.

Really, I had no choice but to comply with his wishes. Because I AM JUST THAT SELFLESS, PEOPLE.

Plus, there were bargains to be had.

So I had them. Or have them, as it were.

Because I bought them.

And the bargains are with me now. In my house.

Y’all won’t believe the skirt I found for $7.99.

SEVEN-NINETY-NINE.

Pictures coming soon.

Sister and I have an ongoing friendly contest to see who can find the very best lavender- or eucalyptus-scented products. Neither of us can walk into, say, Bath & Body Works without making a beeline to the aromatherapy section, and when we find something that meets our high standards, we give it the Sister Seal of Approval,^TM which sounds a little something like this:

“Oooooooh – THIS IS SOME GOOD STUFF RIGHT HERE.”

Then we discuss all the many different ways said product can make skin beautiful / turn a bath into a retreat / cure any possible sinus ailments while we hold the product very closely to our noses, because separating ourselves from the delicious lavender and/or eucalyptus goodness would just be far too much to bear.

And now you are wondering: so what’s the point, oh crazy lady?

(Oh, you’re so kind to assume I have a point.)

(But I do! I really do!)

And the point is this:

A few weeks ago I was trying to put together some gift baskets for some people for some stuff I’ve been working on (and really, I don’t know how much more vague that last phrase could possibly be; clearly I have a gift for communicating details). I was bouncing ideas around with Big Mama, and she mentioned that she has a friend WHO OWNS A LAVENDER FARM (seriously? just typing those words? my heart started to race), and her friend makes really great lavender lotion, among other things.

I was a little skeptical that the lotion could be all that great, especially since Sister and I have such obsessive shopping tendencies in this area (WE KNOW THE MARKETPLACE, PEOPLE), but considering that Big Mama and I agree on, well, pretty much everything, I figured it was worth a shot. Big Mama made a few calls, told her friend what I needed, and about a week later a big ole box full of lavender products arrived at my front door.

And y’all.

Y’all.

The lotion? It’s the best stuff I’ve ever used.

Somehow the lotion is ultra-moisturizing without being greasy. And while the scent is most definitely lavender, there’s nothing cloying or perfume-y about it. It smells clean and fresh and it makes me so happy that I’m going to have to go rub some on my legs right this second and then smile contentedly while I marvel at all the dry skin I’m not seeing.

In short, I love this lotion almost as much as I love carbs, and that, my friends, is a whole, whole bunch.

So I say all of that to tell you this: go treat yourself. Right this second. Don’t wait for someone to give this to you for Mother’s Day (though it would make an absolutely lovely Mother’s Day gift for someone you love). It’s like a spa in a bottle. In fact, last night, after Alex was in bed, (and after listening to him talk non-stop for three straight days), I sat down on my couch, watched the SNL 90’s special, and lotioned to my heart’s content.

And loved every single lavender-scented second.

(Also: this stuff is divine, too. As are the sachets – which they make after they PICK THE LAVENDER THAT GROWS ON THEIR FARM, because strangely enough, LAVENDER, IT COMES FROM NATURE.)

And just so you know: this isn’t one of these deals where someone sent me a product to try in the hopes that I’d review it. This is just one of those happy times when I’ve found a product I love, and I MUST SHARE THE INFORMATION because I care deeply about you and your skin care regiment, especially with summer’s leg-baring days upon us.

I’m telling y’all: THIS IS SOME GOOD STUFF RIGHT HERE.

A few weeks ago I realized that I needed something to wear to a dinner at a friend’s house. And there was no doubt that it was going to be The Best Dinner Party Evir because it was a girls-only event.

In other words: NO BOYZ WER ALLOWED BECUZ BOYZ HAVE COOTIES and because they do not enjoy talking about shoes, make-up, or Sarah Jessica Parker’s hair, all of which are Guaranteed Hot Topics wherever two or more females are gathered. Them’s the rules.

Anyway, when I started trying to find something to wear and realized that my closet was sorely lacking, I went to the Steinmarts and brought home a few shirts to try. In my head, I wanted to find something that looked sort of like this:

Except, of course, I would never – NEVER – belt something um, there, because I’ve got a whole lot more going on above and below the belt than the model does.

Plus, you know, I’M TWO OF HER.

Anyhoo.

I decided that I would try on the shirts and let D. tell me which one he liked best BECAUSE I AM STUPID, THAT’S WHY and the first shirt I put on looked similar to this next one:

D.’s reaction was something along the lines of “That shirt? Really? Are you sure?”         

So it was immediately out of the running.

The next shirt was my favorite, and it resembled the picture below – sort of a Japanese-style print, with a black fabric band instead of some pesky skinny belt. Granted, the neckline begged for a camisole underneath, but I could live with that. I also loved how it looked with some pants I’d bought, and I was feeling pretty sassy when I walked in the living room to show it to D.

D.: “Do you like it? Because if you like it, that’s all that matters.”         

Me: “I really do like it. But you don’t?”

D. “Well. It’s, um, interesting. But if you like it you should absolutely get it!”

Me: “But you don’t like it?”

D. “I’m not sure I understand it.”

Me: “Well, if you didn’t know me and you saw me wearing this shirt, what would you think?”

[LONGEST. PAUSE. EVER.]

D. “I would probably think that you were wearing a uniform from some sort of Asian Hooters.”

So that one was out. I’m pretty quirky clothes-wise, but there are several looks I try to avoid, and I would venture to say that “Hooters uniform” is fairly near the top of that list.

In the end, I settled on a shirt that resembles this one:

The one I bought is black and white instead of multi-colored…but it’s very flow-y and spring-y and billow-y and comfortable-y as can be.

Perhaps because it does not touch my body at any point other than the shoulders.

But the best part of all? You would never see me wearing it and suspect that I had on a Hooters uniform. From Asia or any other continent, for that matter.

So that’s a bit of a fashion victory, isn’t it?

We just won’t talk about the fact that you might see me wearing the cute, flowy shirt and wonder whether or not I was pregnant.

Which, really, is what every girl dreams of when she’s buying new clothes.