On Accident

We attended a party this weekend, and, of course, I worried about the important things:

What am I going to wear and more importantly, what is Cdubs going to wear?

My SIL gave C a cute black-and-white sweater dress that she will not be able to wear when the weather is more appropriate (read: cold), so I had her wear that.  I was thinking of putting her in pink shoes and being done with it...

For me I was going to wear black because I was photographing the event and black is what you wear...

Then came three simultaneous events:
1.) can't wear my usual brown carrier with black clothes (so I wore my red Moby), which meant I could wear my red shoes with my all black outfit.
2.) C's pink shoes didn't fit and she hated the white tights...so I had to switch her to her red leggings to keep her warm.
3.) C puked on my solid black skirt, leaving me to change into my black and white polka dotted one at the very last minute.

As I walked into the party, I looked down...gasping, I realized, "oh shit, we match!"  I have become one of those mothers. 

Next stop: matching hats.

I do this somewhat often...not matching but coordinating outfits.  Always always always by accident.

I think that when I am imagining her outfits I cross-reference my own wardrobe OR

I am subconsciously bringing out my latent issues that my mother would not wear our matching Laura Ashley dresses to church every Sunday like I wanted to.

Doesn't this picture say it all...the mom looks like she is ready to shoot herself and the daughter looks estatic.  I mean, what women doesn't look great in the same dress as their toddler?


Oh well, at least she was happy: