They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and I certainly have some to share about this one. First and foremost, I love it. It’s, hands down, the best photo I have of me with my boys ❤️. It’s a chore to capture children multitasking, aka looking at the camera and smiling at the same time, and the photographer should be commended. Well, she doesn’t get all of the credit. She didn’t really do anything to illicit these smiles, they came from my direction and pinchy tickles to Ashy’s thigh 😆.
So, it turned out great, the end, right? No, because there are so many feelings attached to it. This photo was taken at the Mother/Son dance, the first we have attended. I was apprehensive about buying tickets because I was unsure if it would be something the boys would like doing. However, Mandy and Lawson were supposed to go, so I figured as long as they (and I) had a friend there, it would be a good time. Unfortunately, Lawson got sick a few days before the dance and didn’t feel up to going. Shit. I told Quinn I didn’t know if he would know any of the kids there, but asked if he still wanted to go, and he said he did. It’s important to set the right expectations before we go places to avoid meltdowns. He and Ash had both been sick, too, but they seemed like they were on the road to recovery. The day of the dance, everyone was in a decent mood and there hadn’t been any fevers for days. Since I was waiting it out to decide if we would actually go, I left deciding what to wear to the last minute. I’ve been struggling with my feelings about my body since the creation of Ash, so I didn’t really feel like wearing a dress. I don’t have any that still fit anyway. I went to Beall’s to see what I could put together and settled on this cute heart patterned sweater, feeling like it was fit for the occasion. I searched Facebook for the pics from last year’s dance so I could get a feel for what most people wore. It was about half and half for how many dressed up versus dressed casually. I hate being the odd person out, but I didn’t expect to be. As for the boys, I gave up fighting with Quinn about his clothes long ago, so I didn’t even really try to persuade him to wear anything in particular. The point of the dance is supposed to be for us to have fun, I didn’t want to start it off with a fight over clothes, so I let him wear what he wanted. Ash, too.
People must have decided to up their game in 2025 because I was about one of perhaps five, at the most, moms not wearing a dress. All except a couple of the kids were wearing their Sunday best. To say I felt like an outcast is an understatement.
You know what, though? If you ask Quinn how the dance went, he would say he loved it and can’t wait to go again. There were cookies, chips, and cupcakes, which are the exclusive keys to that kid’s heart. The line for photos was long and took a while, but I told them if they smiled nicely for the pic, I would beat the crap out of them with balloons, which was exactly what they wanted 🤣.
We didn’t stay the entire time because the dance started half an hour before our bedtime. They ate junk, assaulted me and each other with the decor, and then they wanted to go home.
It was so cold that night, I could’ve easily been persuaded to stay in. Actually, whenever we were making our trek from the parking lot to the family center, I very much wished I had. That feeling only intensified as the insecurity surrounding our attire sank in. I’m not usually one to care what others think of me, but I’m human. I’m also my own worst critic. I wanted to share because I thought others might find this relatable. Or it might even inspire some to reserve their judgement, because I know some of you had some 😉. We all do sometimes.
I won’t let my feelings of awkwardness, regret, and inferiority influence my decision on whether we go next year or not. It’s likely that we will, and my kids may not be dressed up (likely won’t be, even), but does it really matter?
🌟🌟🌟🌟 glow party 🌟🌟🌟🌟
Who doesn’t love radioactive icing? 🧁🤷🏻♀️🕷️ 🦸🏼♂️🕸️
Ashy was so tired 😴 😔
Ashy was so tired 😴 😔
