Fashionista

So, it is no secret that I don't know jack about fashion or style or beauty products. I own 9,000 black shirts and use Cetaphil as face wash. I blame this on my lack of appropriate feminine role models as a child (sorry Lynnie, you are a great mom, but you are also the woman who told us to use rubbing alcohol on our faces when we asked for toner). I was a little concerned when I learned we were having a girl because I feared I would pass this same ineptness on to her. Unfortunately, it is already beginning. I noticed the other day when we went to visit Lilah that I dressed Norah in an unfortunate outfit. It was all pink (the onesie, pants, and little sweater), but varying shades and textures, none of which complemented the other. I just know that Norah is going to be that kid in pre-school that the teachers assume has parents who let her dress herself and she's going to have to explain to them that no, her mom did it.

Her smarts better make up for her inevitable lack of style and male pattern baldness.