What I'm wearing:
Shirt: Capsule wardrobe (still getting mileage, Sara!)
Vest: Deletta/Anthropologie circa 2009ish I think (last seen here)
Little clip: Doodad that came with a pair of gifted shoes for Alexa (who says I can't wear baby stuff?)
Cropped jeans: Ross
Sandals (not pictured): As always, Payless
What Alexa's wearing:
Dress: Old Navy, gifted
Socks: Old Navy
Shoes: See Kai Run, gifted (here)
Pull up a chair, y'all. It's story time.
Once upon a time, a woman asked her husband to snap a few photos of her and their daughter for a Steppin' Out post. It had been awhile, she said.
"Sure," he said, toying with the camera. "Is this thing on?"
She quickly changed the settings from manual to automatic and said yes.
The woman picked up her daughter and told her to "cheese" for the camera. About five clicks later, the man said, "Oh no. Look." He held up the camera viewfinder to reveal a bluish tint on all of the photos. Apparently the white balance setting does not reset from manual to automatic. Curses, thought the woman (like FREXING and EFFING and GRRRR). She quickly changed the faulty setting and snapped a practice shot. Perfect.
"A few more?" she asked.
But the daughter was done. And when the woman picked her up and said "cheese" for the camera, wailing and kicking and screaming and cry face happened instead of smiles and rainbows and unicorn poop.
The moral of this story: Check your settings.
The second moral of this story: Toddlers are only good for one "cheese."
Also, through some heavy photoshopping and about ten different kinds of miracle, I was able to salvage the first few shots, in which Alexa and I are both cheesing to our heart's delight.
So the third moral of this story: Do not delete "bad" photos until you try to fix; you never know whether you'll get lucky.
So hey, did you know this is the longest my hair has been in years? Maybe six or seven years, to be exact. I'm not completely loving it, and I miss my hairstylist friend, so hopefully there will be some shaping and tidying up in the near future.
Let's talk about shoes briefly (before this post becomes a novel). Alexa is sporting some mighty fine kicks c/o Auntie Sara. My kicks (off-camera) suffered a loss this week. See, the silver ones I'm wearing have two siblings: black and pewter. I've been wearing this trio for years now, maybe a little too often, if too often is every day. These sandals have been my go-to through an entire pregnancy when other shoes hurt my feet. And yet, we must mourn the passing of the pewter sandals. Their time has come. They had a happening week, starting when we ran down 30 flights of stairs during a bomb scare at work. That might have been the beginning of the end, when a strap broke and I stapled them (do not judge) back together for the rest of the day. Later they were bid adieu. It's so hard to say goodbye. That means the silver and black sandals have a little extra burden on them to NEVER DIE. Do you hear that? NEVER.
OK, continue with your lives. Nothing more to see here, folks.