For the first time since the baby has been born & since Pip's Type-One-Diabetes diagnosis in the summer, my husband & I got to go outta town for the night.

I left that morning looking like this: 

Feeling frumpy & normal & cute. 

I'm a momma of 3-kids-under-five. My life is chaotic, exhausting & it's to the point now, where I'm only putting on makeup once a week. I live in jeans & leggings, a rotation of 7 tee's & I've been box-dying my hair since last spring. I'm still carrying baby weight and can't recommend SPANX enough. But on the weekend my husband was getting an award for being so kick-ass at his job & it was a night I needed to step it up a notch.

But the thing is I'm so outta practice. 

I haven't been out to an evening where you get that dressed up in ages. Probably years. And my husband's "Cocktail-Formal" dress-code threw me right off. So, in a panic I bought 4 dresses planning to return the ones that didn't make the cut. Then the day before we left, a message was sent to remind people it would be rather chilly during cocktail hour because it was out in a winery. 

Bloody hell.

I didn't want to shawl or scarf or blazer it up. So I dug back deep in my closet. Back to 2003 when I bought this long sleeve marvel at Value Village. 

I then snugged my momma-body into it, got glammed up on the makeup side & was feeling pretty good until I went to put on my shoes. In my mind, they were the perfect pair of heels for the dress & a Christmas gift from my mom. Only problem - they were two-freaking-right-heels & I had no other choice but to contort my left foot into one.

The whole ordeal kinda made my confidence in pulling off a Value Village dress shake a bit. But then I text my girlfriends with my unbelievable luck & they totally boosted me up & sooooo many people asked, "Where that killer dress" was from - I mean I was even referred to as a "Smoke Show" - Hello, I don't recall EVER being called that!!! And my entire look from jewelry to two-right-heeled pumps was under $40 minus the miracle of Spanx.

So, the moral of the story gals, is rock whatever the heck ya can. Or be way the heck more prepared than I ever am.