Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, but with a shopping twist

Dear Robin,
Today I've been thinking about money and I've been feeling guilty about wasting it. I don't mean that I throw money out the window of my car when I'm driving, but maybe metaphorically that's what I'm talking about. When given the choice, I spend over save. And even more disappointing to me today is the realization that I buy stuff over experience.

It was another cloudy and cold day in Chicagoland (of course!) and maybe that is part of what had me pacing around the house, finding faulty with everything and beating myself up over as many things as I could think up. Or maybe it was the five trash bags heaped in a pile in the middle of my bedroom floor.

A few days ago I cleaned out my closet. When I was done, I had this HUGE pile of shirts/tops/sweaters I never wear, purses that have lost their gusto and jeans that no longer fit. There were belts and scarves, shoes and dresses, coats and bathing suits, yoga pants, and even underwear and bras. TOO MUCH STUFF!!

When most people clean out their closets or their homes, it seems reasonable that their stuff would be old or overly used, breaking down, perhaps. However, my pile only contained a small percentage of items that could be classified as old or overly used. Most of my stuff is still in good condition.
A small portion of the pile is not my size right now. My little booty is a little bigger, which for the most part, is a good thing, but has left me with a pile of expensive designer jeans that I can't do anything with but feel guilty about getting rid of. In short fits of mania I look at those expensive jeans and feel happy that some other 4'11" person might be out there shopping at Goodwill and feel more than elated at finding 15 pairs of jeans all in a size 25 and all hemmed to the perfect 4'11" person length, but then feeling guilty again that I could have bought my family a trip to Mexico with that kind of investment.

I just feel as if my priorities are out of whack. It was fine when I was 25 years old, single, and working crazy hours to own outfits for all occasions. But now in my forties, with kids and a very limited social calendar, I just can’t justify 15 pairs of jeans and 9 “special occasion” sparkly tops.

I was going to write that I’m not wreckless about shopping but after reading this I wonder if I am.

I should add this to my bucket list. What should I call it? “Stop the Madness”? “Curb the fabric consumption”? Or “Right the Wrongs of my Spending Ways”? Maybe the tried and true “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle”?

Whatever I call it, it needs to start soon because this is one of those things that creeps into my dreams at night and giving me a headache during the day. I’d say there’s no bigger sign from the universe than invading anxiety to make one recognize an “issue.” OK—I get it. I need to cut back on the Seven jeans and the trips to Nordstrom. No more shoes, no more dresses, just because.

What I need is a good spanking from Suze Orman or a good talking to by a financial guru. I’d much rather have experiences than a new pair of shoes. And so today it begins…

A Different Royal Dress

Okay, so we're not the Royal Family and we're not into a wedding just yet, but Adrienne does have her first communion on Sunday. And that certainly had the two of us a little white dress crazy for ahwile. What she picked is beautiful. However, I should admit up front that the dress is more "mini-bride" than "first communicant."

I wasn't raised Catholic, so this shouldn't matter to me, but for some reason, I'm fretting (which is not something I normally do) over the merits of a traditional dress versus one that is not.

Adrienne is no Kate Middleton in age or circumstance, but I used the Royal Extravaganca this morning to make one last ditch effort at expressing my opinion about the importance of the appropriateness of dress. I said to Adrienne: "Isn't Princess Kate understated yet, elegant?" Adrienne stuck her tongue out at me and made a face, with no clue of my inner struggles.

Although there are plenty of age-appropriate options in stores and online, there are just enough dresses with that “new,” “more adult” look that little girls feel tempted away from "old school" and totally enticed by a red carpet worthy option.

Do I need to tell you that everything available for third grade girls is styled above their age range, to begin with. I didn’t have a prayer getting Adrienne to wear a tea length with cap sleeves and a round neck (i.e. TRADITIONAL COMMUNION DRESS!!! Exhibit A).

Adrienne and her sense of style comes to her honestly (see last blog post where I say it's better to look like you know what you’re doing than to actually know, and I think you'll agree that type of person would surely birth an offspring with the same world view). She sees what she likes and that's it, there's no changing her mind. I should have expected she would want a communion dress that would be more modern and especially would want one with a little Hollywood flair.

But with all that said, I present to you Exhibit B—the white flower girl ensemble that Adrienne wanted. And forgive me Father, but Exhibit B is what I bought (despite my misgivings) and what Adrienne will be wearing.

In all fairness, it’s not that I don’t agree with her dress. There will be other girls in long, less traditional frocks. And the school and church will take care of keeping the traditions of the ceremony to the traditions of the ceremony. It’s not like choosing a more modern dress makes her communion any different…

It’s just that I’m struggling with family traditions right now--how to make them memorable for my kids. And let's be honest, my irrational concerns over the appropriateness of the dress are really more about the stress of the day.

My parents will travel from Indianapolis, but my dad more than likely won’t go to the church (he didn’t go to Andrew’s two years ago; he watched baseball in the living room). When services are over, he and my mom will bolt out the door like the house is on fire, more than likely passing on the meal that I planned and shopped for this morning. So, left will be Eric’s mom , and sister (along with sister’s child that seems to have a multitude of developmental delays that make him prone to wrecking the kids’ LEGO town painstakingly built and displayed in the basement; In the last week the LEGO town was just restored to the glory it enjoyed before his last visit of destruction at Christmas).

It’s not that we have issues with Eric’s mom, sister and sister’s child, it’s just that we have a very superficial relationship based on two or three visits a year where conversation is just as superficial. There is no depth, only duty.

So, when Adrienne asked for a big party for her communion, “like all the other girls,” I got a headache thinking about what a “party” at our house might be like--especially compared to the huge gatherings and extended family celebrations that her classmates will have.

It is for this reason I let Adrienne get the mini bride dress and the clear “high heels” and the crown for the “up-do” I’ll create out of her hair.

But the lesson that I've learned from this is one that I teach my students: "We only know what we know." That might seem a little rudimentary and simplistic, but it's actually based off of Plato (the ancienty Greek philosopher) who tells us that we are easily shielded from seeing everything in the world. We have to try to make sense of it all.

So here's what I know, on Sunday, Adrienne won’t care if it’s raining or only 46 degrees. She won’t care if the skies are gray or if Poppa stays home to watch baseball. She won’t recognize the superficial conversations or the headache I will surely have. She won't miss my parents at the dinner following the services. The only thing she will know and acknowledge is that her mommy bought her the dress she wanted. She’ll feel good about herself and THAT is what tradition is made of, and THAT is what she will remember.

When I frame it that way, traditional dress versus non traditional dress makes no difference. Adrienne as happy girl... priceless.

Enough already! Part II

Dear Robin,
Here I sit, looking out to another crappy day in Chicagoland--high 42, rainy, windy, and gray.

An interesting tidbit of information that may shed light (for a Southerner like you) on the severity of this nasty, awful, persistent weather is that our outside cat, who LOVES the outside, won’t even go outside. She paces around the front door, but when I open it for her, she sniffs the air then turns around, slinking (low to the ground in disgust, I might add) in the other direction, in favor of spending the afternoon in a comfortable chair in my closet ( get it? INSIDE the house, NOT OUTSIDE where she loves and belongs). Good grief…

A few weeks ago, when the local news predicted warmer, dryer temps, but Mother Nature remained stubbornly cold and rainy, I consoled myself with a double whammy “spring” shopping spree, thinking the rush of endorphins would last until the weather broke.

I started on-line with two pairs of wedge sandals, two dresses (decidedly shorter and more “spring-like” in both fabric and design) and a few short-sleeved cardigans from Nordstrom.

After a brief workout and a lunch that undid the workout, I went to a local boutique and bought two pairs of jeans and a half dozen short sleeved shirts.

It made me happy for a day or two, until the weather persisted and everything just hung in my closet lifelessly with the tags weighing it all down, making it feel like an incredible waste of effort and money--a quick fix that didn’t bridge the gap to anything.

Ultimately, I rationalized the whole thing with the idea that it had to get warmer AND when it did, I would wear these cute things to class, making me a very professional-looking professor, even in the spring. So on the days when I’m feeling less than scholarly and less than qualified to do my job, I would at least look the part. My dad always taught me that looking like you know what you’re doing is sometimes just as good as actually knowing. This idea has saved me more than a handful of times from various predicaments—scholarly and otherwise.

But you know where this is going—I haven’t had the chance to wear any of it AND MY SEMESTER ENDS NEXT WEEK!! And after my semester, where in the heck will I wear these “professional” looking items? Once I’m done with class, I spend my mornings at the gym and my afternoons taxi-ing my kids around—most days in the same yoga pants and tank top I started out in. It gives me a headache to even think about it. And so to Mother Nature, in my loudest outside voice, I say, yet again, Enough Already!!