what might have been {frocktober, day 25}

Remixes: bow top / dress

Today, October 26th, was the due date for our first baby. We called her Poppy, because that's the size she was when we lost her. We'll never know if she was a boy or a girl on this side of heaven, but she's still a very intricate part of us. Sometimes, at the oddest and strangest of moments, one of us will turn to the other and just say, I miss Poppy. She changed the way we experience sorrow, our love for each other, our marriage, our family. I've mentioned before how I have been dreading this day. Now that it's here, I feel a very solid sense of painful gratitude. It's a relief to be here in a way, to be facing this dreaded milestone and still be intact. 

Carrying our son William has been such a complex variety of layered joy, fear, hope, sorrow, excitement, love. It's the dichotomy of tears. My husband showed up to work this morning with a bouquet of wildflowers, some soil, and a packet of poppy seeds for us to plant a garden of poppies together in our new home. I honestly can't think of anything more wonderful than having a garden of poppies. It also makes me want to cry. He also brought a card that he had written both to me and to Poppy. It was perfect and it broke my heart. We cried together in the car, and I have never felt so grateful to have him by my side. His heart is a privilege to know. He loves our babies. He is the best dad. I cannot wait to see him in action when William comes into the world. 

What might have been is a cruel daydream. But today is not a day to dwell on tragedy or loss, but to draw closer together and bask in the happiness she brought to our lives in such a short time. I like to say her life was vibrant. It was. It still is. We spend our time now dreaming of our future garden, and loving on both of our babies with all our might. 

grown ups {frocktober, day 5 + 6}

Outfit 1:

Dress (remixed 1, 2): gifted // Leggings (shop!): Pink Blush Maternity

Outfit 2:

Dress (remixed 1, 2, 3, 4, 5): Ruche // Sweater (similar): LOFT

I think I've worn this aztec dress more than anything else in my wardrobe. It has become more of a long tank top in my current ballooned state, but it's still my go-to for a bright, comfortable dress. The 6th was rainy and cool, and it finally felt a little like Fall. I immediately brought out this grey knit sweater, which I bought this past summer in anticipation of a winter pregnancy. I got it for $10 at LOFT on super sale, and it has been sitting with its tags on just waiting for a day like this. I was so thrilled to finally put it on. The day I picked that sweater out does not seem that long ago, and I'm a little bit shocked at how the time has flown by. Here I am, wearing this time capsule sweater, 28 weeks pregnant and dreaming about that wintery breeze in the air.

This week has definitely been a reminder that I am a grown up. Sometimes it doesn't feel that way. Sometimes, while living with my parents and playing with kittens and planning weekend shenanigans, it completely escapes my notice that I'm in my late twenties and am about to move into a real house and have a baby. 

I turned 27 on Monday and the day just kind of whispered by. I kept shocking myself by being so calm about it. I've always loved birthdays a little too much - last year we had a fantastic s'mores bar bonfire party. This year snuck up on me, and I didn't plan a single thing. I remember being in a bit of a funk last year, too, and I think it's because I'm realizing that I can't quite accomplish the exuberance I've always reserved for birthday month anymore. It seems like something I should grow out of. Truthfully, I don't want to grow out of it - the thought makes me quite sad. But this year, it felt okay to be a grown up. To pay attention to more important things, and refrain from forcing focus on myself. My birthday was simple and lovely - I went to work, had lunch at my favorite cafe, gathered with my family for a delicious Chinese take-out dinner, and ended with my grandma's blueberry bread pudding for dessert. 

As this month progresses (I'm still quietly celebrating birthday month), the greatest birthday gift I can possibly imagine would be to finally move in to our house. We're also going to visit our besties in North Carolina on the 29th, which will be the perfect way to end this October. There are so many things to look forward to. Each day brings us closer to house, travel, holidays, and baby! Yes. Being a grown up is pretty grand.

working weekend {frocktober, day 2 + 3}

Remixes:
Outfit 1: Dress 1, 2 // Cardigan
Outfit 2: Dress // Sweater 1, 2

A few notes on the last two days of Frocktober. Maternity leggings are amazing. It makes me wonder why I haven't been wearing these for years. I was recently gifted 4 pairs for my birthday from Pink Blush Maternity, and they are so buttery smooth. It's a little bit absurd how happy they make me. I'd highly encourage you to try them out, whether you're pregnant or just a woman who enjoys having your bum cradled in a cloud.

Friday and Saturday have both been work days at #casaschan. I can't wait to show you complete room reveals, but for now you can follow me on Instagram for little updates here and there (@caitschan). We’ve been aiming to be moved in by the end of this month, which for the last few weeks has felt like pretty wishful thinking. But after an entire day of working on installing our beautiful laminate floors yesterday, things are looking up! I’ll confess I spent most of Saturday in a big t-shirt, shorts, and tennis shoes – but am still honoring Frocktober in the in-between. 

In case you’re wondering, our big list items that still need to get done are:

1. The rest of our floors – getting so close!

2. New countertops – we’ll find out more tomorrow!

3. Paint the master bedroom

4. Spray the property for scorpions (yuck!)

There are other bonus wishes, such as replacing our broken sliding glass door and painting the kitchen cupboards white. And, ya know, getting the nursery painted and decorated for the baby... There will definitely be plenty of projects to do once we’re moved in, but for now we’re trying to focus on the must-dos and save those other lists for later. 

first of fall: frocktober!

Autumn is...

birthday month pumpkin spice hay rides kettle corn weekend trips sweater weather burnt orange scarves plaid changing leaves crisp mornings harvest festivals the state fair thanksgiving fireside evenings pumpkin patches pumpkin everything s'mores camping apple cider harry potter butterbeer halloween movie nights scented candles couch cuddles tights & boots spices hot drinks cozy socks caramel golden days

And... it's Frocktober. 

Happy first day of Fall, friendlies! 

This season is starting off quite well. I am 26 weeks along today, and my baby and I are sharing a pumpkin spice latte to celebrate. Of course, he has no choice in the matter...but I've got to start him early on the finer things of life.

And, of course, Frocktober -- which will be in full swing starting next week! The collage above is a little recap of last year's Frocktober dresses. It was probably my favorite year so far. I was able to remix a lot of my favorite dresses into completely new outfits. Last year was such a year of growth in all areas - career, marriage, family, life goals. Looking back on last October brings a lot of those things to mind, and I can't believe we're nearly a year past it!

For those of you who don't know, Frocktober is my month of dress-wearing. An entire month of dresses! Read more about it here. As I said, the collage above is my Frocktober 2014 challenge. You can also check out 2013 and 2012. This will be my fourth year embarking on this personal style adventure - and, admittedly, the most challenging yet! October will be weeks 28-31 of my pregnancy, so utilizing my existing wardrobe is going to be a pretty tight fit. My main motivation for participating in Frocktober has always been to challenge myself to find new purpose and appreciation for what I already have - avoiding shopping for the month and bringing new creative life to my dresses and other accessories. I'm going to do my best to stick to it.

If you'd like to join me, I would be more than happy to induct you into the lovely Frocktober Sisterhood. My challenge to you for the month of October is to not only be creative and innovative with your existing closet, but to also try to avoid purchasing new clothes. Think outside the box. Have a clothes swap with friends, or go thrifting, or consider using your clothes budget to purchase from a company that gives back - like Krochet Kids intl. or another cause that really speaks to you. Take the month to be intentional with what you wear and how you wear it. 

Follow along with me starting October 1st! And definitely let me know if you're joining me in the challenge.

#frocktobersisterhood

dresses as skirts

Row 1: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
Row 2: 5 / 6 / 7 / 8
Row 3: 9 / 10 / 11 / 12

One of my favorite tricks of utilizing my closet in the most efficient way is to use dresses as skirts. Especially when a dress is strapless or spaghetti strap, it helps to have another option other than just wearing it with a cardigan. Instead I'll employ a lace blouse, a button-up, or a sweater to layer over the top of the dress, sometimes belting it to add some definition. It doubles my opportunities to wear my favorite dress patterns in varied ways, keeping things fresh and fun.

remix: horse print

Original posts left to right: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4

This silky horse print top was my first purchase from Modcloth. It was on sale for like $8, and I decided to take the plunge and buy it (along with this necklace and this dress). It was one of my first online purchases, before I became quite addicted to online shopping while living in Virginia.

I'm actually surprised how much I ended up liking this shirt. It's very silky, so I wasn't sure how I felt about it at first. I almost always end up wearing it tucked in to a skirt or underneath a dress. It layers really nicely. I think it's the print itself that I like the most. I'm such a sucker for animal prints, but this one is neutral enough to wear it often without too much repetition.

(See all of my remix posts).

the velveteen girl

Once upon a time...

Yesterday's outfit and the bright prickly green of the desert in the budding Spring had me feeling like a character in a fairy story. There's something magical about the colors of the desert at sunset at this time of year. Green, grey, purple, blue, pink, yellow. These ethereal feelings might also have something to do with the book I'm currently reading, which is a retelling of Beauty and the Beast by Robin McKinley. It has me in an imaginative spirit. I recently went on a book-seeking voyage in my old room, and found a small pile of unread books that I had collected 10-15 years ago. I used to love wandering through Barnes and Noble and picking out new books. Nowadays I read mostly on my Kindle and choose books by popularity or recommendation - I miss choosing something based entirely on cover art, character names and instinct. I'm finally getting around to reading some of those old choices, time capsules of my first serious reading years. 

I like to think that maybe I was channeling a little royal Beast yesterday with the deep velvet dress. Yes, I wore velvet - I know you're shocked. You and me both. If anyone's to blame, it's Greer from Reign. I think maybe her green velvet dress finally broke my resolve to be anti-velvet forever.

The truth is, this velvet dress felt like a cushion for my fragile state of being. Like wrapping myself in something truly luxurious, it made me feel dressed up and pretty and beloved. It's silly how much clothing can mean to me sometimes. I'm sure I'm not the only one who can feel transformed by what I wear. The last two weeks have been largely pajama-clad, and while the solitude and relaxation were needed and cherished, there comes a point when you have to put on your boots and walk outside of yourself again. 

Dress (similar)/Blouse: Ruche, Sweater: Target

I tell my story in bits by blogs and texts and memories, and reflecting back on my life is always surreal. It goes by so fast, doesn't it? Time heals all wounds and it goes ever on and on. It helps to know that the world is a big place, and I am infinitely small. That even the earth is just a speck of thriving life, and it's not all there is. It's easy to be overwhelmed and to forget the big picture. To stay in that pajama-clad universe (introverts unite) and disappear within. But life is not a wish granting factory because it isn't (shouldn't be) a selfish endeavor. Living is only worth it when shared with others. I am just a velveteen rabbit on that journey for realness. A worn and torn beloved being, made real by love.

I think that's the magic. I obviously don't believe in fairy tales (much), but I do believe that there's power in lying on the cold ground and trying to count the stars, feeling the odd emotional sensation of staring into an endless space. Realizing how gargantuan the universe is and how teeny tiny you are. A pinprick in someone else's telescope. That's the only way we can ever let go of the small things and become better, realer people. To discover that there's a Creator and we are purposeful. That life is short and time swallows it in great gulps. But it is marvelous and worthwhile. Every single moment, every single life, every single teeny joy. Things like coffee and velvet dresses and Spring colors. Fragrant creosote flowers and good books and cool breezes.

Pack up these moments in your arms and carry them with you. Gather others into your heart and love them. Sacrifice and embrace and become a beloved. It's a simple world of velveteen people, and we're all made real by love.

green hair don't care

Dress (remixed 1, 2, 3, 4): Modcloth, Sweater (shop!): Gap

This past October, I created a to-do list for my 26th year of life. It's filled with silly and serious dreams and goals, and one of them was to dye the ends of my hair purple. Because why not?

I dyed my hair tips red last year, and after it inevitably began to fade to a golden blonde I began to think about other fun colors I'd like to eventually try. Purple won out in the end. I loved the dark purple, but after a few weeks, it began to turn into this strange, mermaid-inspired teal green. I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't bothered by it. I was totally fine with the seaweed locks, and even found a kindred spirit (Elizabeth over at Delightfully Tacky) with teal hair in the blogosphere. 

A week or two ago, though, I had a friend tell me that she really didn't like it. That it was probably time for it to go. It kind of took me back a little bit, because I somehow still manage to be surprised when people don't think the things I like are as awesome as I think they are (like my gold-capped molar, like my autographed Orlando Bloom headshot, like the Renaissance Festival...). Maybe I'm just super weird in a million different ways. But I reacted differently to the criticism this time around. I didn't shy back or try to people please or become embarrassed that something I like might be weird or nerdy or whatever else. I just said, "Oh, I like it!" and the conversation moved on. 

It wasn't a particularly life-changing moment, but it did cause me to think a little bit. Why do I make the choices that I do, in style and otherwise? Who are they for? Because if they're for me, then I can proudly wear that green hair don't care vibe and be unashamed by my loud galaxy-print dress and my gold molar and my handcrafted dragon statue made by a woman dressed like an apothecary's wife. I've been told by many various people over the course of my life that I am weird. That I'm nerdy, or "homeschooled". I have never been able to figure out the reasons for saying those things in a hurtful way, especially when the words are spoken by friends. What are they hoping to gain? My embarrassment, an apology, a change of personality? Who knows. 

I think it's really hard to be confident. I often find myself feeling out a group before voicing my opinions. Sometimes I even nod in agreement or change my answer based on the dialogue of others. Not about big things, of course, like God or Harry Potter. But the little things often slip away, out of cowardice and self doubt. I know I'm not the only one who does this, but it often leaves me feeling really frustrated with myself. Sometimes I'll blurt out the truth to my husband after we've been hanging out with friends, because it has been proven over the course of our relationship that he will love me in all things, to the bizarrest degree. I wish I could feel that strong all the time. 

I chopped my hair off this week, and the whole evening I was trying to decide why I was doing it. Was it because I had already been thinking about it, because my hair was dry and brittle from the dye? Or was it because of that friend's comment? I'm not sure. Either way, I love the new haircut and it feels much happier and healthier. And perhaps it's the first step toward that dream of a pixie cut. 

At the end of the day, I want what I do to be for me. Not in a selfish way, but in an intentional way. I wear the clothes that I do because I love the way I feel in them, and I love the creativity inherent in putting together unique combinations and in utilizing my clothes in new and unexpected ways. They're small but freeing choices that I'm proud of. I don't think there's any one secret to not caring what other people think - I think I'll always care. But I also think that I can practice confidence and claim joy. Those are worthy pursuits. So is Renaissance Festival pizza. Everyone else is just missing out. 

sisterhood

I have always wondered what it would be like to have a sister. 

My mom and I went to Home Depot last night to run some errands, and I wandered around in the garden section for a while, eventually stumbling upon the two gorgeous pink roses pictured above. They were growing side by side. Rosy sisters. Something struck my heart in that moment. Perhaps it was longing, or a little bit of remembrance for my younger self, who always begged and wished for a sister. Or maybe it was a little twinge of something else entirely, a nameless emotion tied to seeing something simple and beautiful. 

I grew up with 3 marvelous brothers whom I love deeply, and friends and cousins that I attached myself to as a surrogate sister. I always envied my friends who had sisters, and would chide them when they fought because I couldn't comprehend fighting with a beloved sister. As I've grown up and my siblings and siblings-in-law have gotten married, I have even gained sisters-in-law, which is such a delightful bonus to my collection of siblings.

Funnily enough, every sister-in-law I have is just like me: we all grew up without any sisters. It strikes me as very strange and kind of lovely. What are the odds? We are a gaggle of sisterless women who love each other all the more because we are each other's first experiences with sisterhood. 

Dress (remixed 1, 2): Ruche

Star Sweater: remixed

Don't get me wrong: many of my friends have been like sisters to me over the years. I do not belittle those relationships in any way. I had several "sisters" growing up that I still love and cherish. They allowed me to share my room and giggle over secrets. And my sisters-in-law expanded that realm of relationship even further, filling up our family and making it more of a girl's club!

Even so, I realize that there is a very real question tucked away in the stitches of my being that will never be answered. I'll never know what it's like to have a real sister. Which in many ways is fine, because as they say, ignorance is bliss. I don't really understand the intricacies of what I'm missing. It's not a devastating or a heartbreaking thought, it's just something that I know to be true.
There are positive influences to growing up entirely with brothers, too. I owe so much of myself to them. My interests and many aspects of my personality. I think it's possible that I am the friend that I am because I never had any sisters.

In one of my favorite parts of the movie In Her Shoes, Maggie is trying to explain her sister Rose to her husband-to-be, Simon. The first half of the movie is very dark and sad, illustrating the strain and heartbreak that has wedged the two sisters apart. Maggie is basically telling Simon that her little sister is irresponsible, frustrating, immature, selfish - and that he'll end up begging her to throw her out of their lives.

But I won't. Because she's my sister. Without her, I don't make sense. 

That part always makes me cry, mostly because of the restorative nature of forgiveness and the steadfast love and loyalty that is inherent in sisterhood. I have been blessed to know and love many sisters in the world, catching a peek at what that relationship is really like. I know I get glimpses of it. 

I shall continue assigning myself as a surrogate sister to the many kindred spirits in my life, knowing that sisterhood is a beautiful thing, in every form. 

craving lazy {frocktober, day 24+25}

Day 24 : Dress (remixed): gifted, Top: LOFT outlet, Cardigan: old, Shoes: Blowfish
Day 25 : Dress (remixed 1, 2): J. Crew outlet, Denim Top (remixed): Ruche

These last few weekends I have been having very acute cravings for laziness.

It starts somewhere around Friday morning, after I've had my coffee and I begin to count down the hours and the minutes to pajama time. My Friday night parties include me, my TV (or a good book), my cats, and something to snack on. I am quite the night lifer, I know.

My husband, though, is the opposite. He craves actual parties. He loves people and is energized by events and get-togethers and plans. I want no plans. I want couch. 

Sometimes it's a struggle to find a balance for what we both want and need. 

My husband feels really frustrated and unaccomplished when we spend too much time on the weekends doing nothing. (Which, I would argue, having an all-day sitcom marathon is not nothing). But, I see his point and I think lately I've just been wanting to crawl into my shell and disappear for a while. It's a part of me that shows up every once in a while, the extreme introvert that can occasionally take over. I've been especially susceptible to her lately. 

And also, I kind of just miss marathons. As disgusting as it was, I miss those years where we would literally watch TV for days, binge-watching shows together and being completely free to do so. Sure, we would eat our weight in crap like pizza and cookie dough but it kinda felt like a vacation. 

Right now we're stuck in that awkward stage of really wanting to partake in bouts of all-day indulgences, while also trying to find the strength and resolution to admit that oh my goodness my body hates me I'm too old for this crap. It's a side effect of the mid-twenties. 

Friday night I went to a 10 o'clock showing of Gone Girl with my dad and little brother and I feel like death warmed up. I just can't stay up that late anymore. I desperately want to hold on to my adolescence and take a full weekend to watch TV, but that's pretty irresponsible and is generally a waste of my time and a drain on my energy. It's time that I could be using to actually do something worthwhile. 

I wish I had the answers to feeling more secure, more grown up, more accomplished. I think we're both just feeling like we're in a rut and we're not sure how to get out of it, how to keep moving forward. We're just in the money-saving, planning, hoping in-between stage. Things are happening and we have ideas and goals and "I cant wait for"s, but it's just a lot of patience and waiting. 

Maturity encourages patience, so I'm going to keep putting on my dresses and going out into the world to nourish learning, activity, exercise, and relationships. 

That childish gal within me who wishes to stay in her pajamas for days at a time will just have to be saved for very, very special occasions. Like a real vacation, once we've saved up and earned one.