Transition

So, about seven months ago, I began a half-assed attempt at a blog I envisioned as being an homage to my newlywed-dom.

Obviously, it didn't take.

Rather than toss out the baby with the bathwater for the umpteenth-time, I've decided that the warts do me credit. Everybody poops.

I miss my old blogs--T is for Teacher from the old MSN Spaces days, most especially. Finding a way to shift both life narrative and blog theme has proven a ridiculous and futile exercise. Instead, I choose poop.

I anticipate that as I transition from very pregnant lady to new-mom, I will have a lot to say about poop. But then, poop always happens. Everyone has an opinion about poop. And I miss writing, even if most of it is self-congratulatory navel gazing...or, bathroom-reading, if we're sticking with a theme.

So. Welcome to the Poop.

Pop Vintage Find: Tomato Pinafore Apron...and A Post-Post Modern Idea.

Inspiration arises from the most unassuming of details. This adorable pinafore apron was $3.99 at a local antique store. I couldn't resist the little tomato illustration on the pockets.

On that particular shopping day, two days prior to the wedding, I was in the market for "something old," namely an English penny to stick in my shoe. I found this apron by sheer providence. It's so much cuter in person. This apron, or rather, the combination of this apron, the tropical sleeveless dress (acquired from a boutique in Atlanta, the name of which is escaping me at present), and my maternal grandmother's plastic red and pink costume pearls gave me an idea; the first creative writing idea I've had in quite some time: "Pop Housewife."

I snapped a photo of this apron and the outfit to post on a discussion forum I frequent with sassy, brassy ladies, when I realized the highly-stylized, cartoonish cutiepie staring back at me belies the caustic tongue I associate with my own tartish internal monologue.

Whatever is happening right now, this impulse to embrace and chuck the idea of a gilded cage, I plan to buck the negative, anti-woman, anti-educated association with what it means to be a Home Economist these days. I hope I might change some minds while I'm here, particularly my own.

Here's your apron. Get to work.