Project 333: Month 3 list and thoughts

Some o' my items.

Since I gave myself permission to make my first Project 333 extravaganza a learning experience, and thus able to switch things out after every month, I decided to take a hard look at my closet and the items I didn't wear very much during November (or, in some cases, at all) and start fresh in December.

Well, sort of fresh. My favorites stayed put. The rest of it got piled on the bed. And then I commenced with "shopping my closet." You're supposed to box your extra clothing up, but mine is just in my wardrobe. Potential trade-ins were also tossed on the bed, and I began mixing and matching and kind of tearing my hair out.

Because you know what? I haven't really missed anything that's been in the wardrobe at all. Still, I pressed on. I tried very hard to make my denim shirt work, but decided that I don't actually like it very much, plus it only went with a couple of things. (Turns out my favorite dress pants do not work with denim shirts. Ah, well.) I also tried hard to make a relatively new grey button down work, but... I just couldn't. So anyway, yadda yadda yadda, a bunch of my wardrobe-bound clothing ended up in bags to give away. If anyone wears a size medium to large and wants to look through my stuff, you're welcome to it. :)

I also ditched some things that are wearing out and/or I'm just not into anymore. A couple items that are seriously wearing out but are staples stayed in my closet--they're on my list for replacement, but until I find something suitable, I'm going to just make do.

In order to make 33 items (because I was down to 26 and I didn't really want to go that low... mostly because I'm too scared), I added back a few things that I subtracted for November. I know, that's crazy talk, but I promise to ditch anything that I don't regularly wear January 1. (Maybe I really will wear those long-sleeve button downs when it's freezing outside? Or maybe I will finally get it through my head that between the idea and the reality falls the shadow. I'm apparently a slow learner.)

Anyway, I am still surprised at how much I have learned from this exercise (wants verses needs and what compels me to shop--boredom, mostly, and misplaced dreams), even if I am cheating this go-round. I *think* I'll be able to hack it for the January-March period like God and Courtney Carver intended. (Here's the Project 333 link in case you're interested.) That's the goal, anyway.

My December list of 33 items:

Black long-sleeve t-shirt                 

Navy long-sleeve t-shirt
White long-sleeve t-shirt                

Black tank top

White tank top                             

Navy t-shirt

Black t-shirt                 

Black/white dot button down shirt           

White button down shirt                 

Teal button down shirt                 

Dark grey button down shirt

Black button down shirt

Black cardi                             

Orange/red cardi

Grey cardi

Plum cardi                             

Teal cardi                             

Black turtleneck sweater     

Beige jacket                             

Denim jacket                       

Black skirt                             

Denim skirt                             

Purple skirt 

Beige skirt     

Grey plaid skirt     

Grey pants                             

Black pants                             

Beige pants                       

Dress denim                             

Jeans                             

Scarves: Teal, red, black, navy, orange           

Coat and gloves                       

Shoes: Danskos, boots, ankle boots         

My worst day

Ten years ago today, my general feeling of "something's not quite right" was confirmed when I miscarried after 8 weeks of pregnancy.

Ten years ago today was a Saturday. The sun was shining. Abby was four. Eric was at his parents' house helping his father with a project. Abby and I had planned to go to the craft bazaar at the local Methodist church (which we did) and then to the store to get a wreath holder and candy canes (which we did). I felt terrible. I did my best to ignore it.

Of course we ran into all kinds of people everywhere--my friend Mara's parents, acquaintances I'd only talked to via email for my column--and everyone was in the mood to chat. By the time Abby and I were back in the car headed home, I couldn't ignore the fact that I was basically in labor.

So I breathed in and I breathed out between contractions, took Abby to my mother-in-law (who met me at the door and told me to get the hell off my feet), and came home and died. Well, not literally. And then Eric came home because his mother found him and told him the news, and he let me cry and that was that.

Ten years later, I feel blessed. This morning, as I was taking the girls to school, listening to Johanna plan her birthday slumber party and Abby talking about her sucky basketball team, I wanted to pull the car over for a group hug. Ten years ago was the worst day of my entire life. Exactly one decade later, I have two healthy, lovely girls. I can remember the kindness of my sister-in-law, who came to sit with me because she didn't want me to be alone, without cringing from remembered pain. I know when I can't be strong, Eric can be strong for us both. I know that people really love us.

I've been rewriting this next paragraph all morning, and it's still not perfect, but here's what I want to tell you: Please don't be afraid to talk about miscarriage, whether it's your own or someone you know. So many of us have experienced this, and it's comforting to know that you're not alone--and to know that you will live through it. And I can tell you firsthand someone going through a miscarriage isn't likely to forget they are, so you won't be jarring them to reality if you ask about it. It's uncomfortable when people veer away from the topic, actually--it's all you're thinking about, and being able to freely express your sorrow / feelings / whatever is a relief. Um, that's all.

Oh, and P.S. On December 8, I saw a doctor to confirm that I had miscarried--which I had, completely--and exactly one year later, that was Johanna's due date.  I tell you what, people, coincidence or divine intervention, I don't care. Johanna is our own personal miracle.

P.P.S. This was a hard post to write, and I normally don't share quite so much of myself on the blog, but I felt it important to do so. My next post will be happier, I promise.

Morning view

They say when you start talking about the weather, you've run out of things to say.
That sounds about right...