I've been acting as Wardrobe Mistress for my family. It started out so subtly that I didn't even realize it: School clothes acquisition begat closet cleaning, which begat a mountain of mending, laundry (and what the hell?) Ironing. Lindsay decided she wanted to cultivate a new fashion image, which called for some advanced thrift-store recognizance (She is SO much cooler than I was at 13 - thank God). Which begat more mending, hemming, and button replacement. No less than 5 pairs of pants had to be returned/exchanged for Campbell (apparently we are all in denial as to his actual size). And Phillip went on a vintage clothing procurement tear that can only be described as "Creative Nakedness Abatement". Dude has got such odd style. Fortunately the damage was minimal, as he has learned not to purchase weird old things without texting me a photo first. The 70's zip-up ankle boots were a sobering near miss, however. Before I knew it, I had touched every item of clothing the three of them own, at least twice.
At some point during of all that, my pants began to disintegrate. I think they saw all the other old clothes headed for the Elephant Graveyard and tried to make a break for it. I grabbed both pairs of jeans and patched the holes in them where the rear pockets were starting to pull off, promising myself to embroider something clever over the mends later (short-term goal being not to have my lingerie on display). Turning attention to my own wardrobe inspired me to finally hem the two bargain sweater dresses I picked up off season last year. And having those ready in my travel clothes arsenal made me feel so smug that I went totally batshit and ordered some Grownup Lady trousers that I could conceivably travel with for teaching.
All of which culminated in finding out that I have forgotten how to sew. The final wardrobe salvo was to make some cute little skirts for Lindsay. The first one was 3 inches too big around the waist. I tore it out and cut it down. I put it on her and it's 2 inches too small. Some cog has slipped. I have to make the same dumb little cotton skirt a THIRD TIME. No idea what's happened. I think maybe the Sewing Gods are pissed at me for knitting too much.
Phillip and Cam went back to school yesterday, leaving Lindsay and me alone for the day. We went for a motorcycle ride to our favorite sandwich place to celebrate the end of summer. Lindsay told me that she has decided she's going to ride a motorcycle too, when she grows up. She saw some little kids watching us as we drove away from the sandwich shop and waved to them. She said they looked like they wished their mommy had a bike. I felt good; It's not often your kid recognizes you as the Cool Mom.
When we got home I snapped this photo of Lindsay, practicing for when she has her own ride.
Today she started the 8th grade. After missing the bus. Campbell went to his second day of the 5th grade. And forgot his lunch. Phillip began his 8th year of teaching High School English. No idea yet what he forgot/missed, but there was certainly something; I'm waiting for the phone call.
And I'm sitting, at long last, in a Very. Quiet. House. Welcome Autumn. I've missed you.