Hand-Me-Downs From Mom

We're big on hand-me-downs in my family. I would say that more than half of what my husband and I own came from somebody else who used it first--parents, grandparents, friends, strangers (you know me and my thrift shops). I've never, as long as I can remember, resented hand-me-downs in the stereotypical way. I would even say I prefer them.

I'm sandwiched in between two brothers so as a kid I never had an older sister to bequeath me with all of her too-small clothes, but my mom always found a way to get me hand-me-downs despite this. I remember bags of clothes being dropped off by friends of the family who had slightly older girls, and this was always the most exciting thing. It helped that a lot of the clothes were totally stylish (my favorite were Gap hand-me-downs) and I loved sorting through everything and finding things I liked. It felt so special, like a big bag of presents had magically landed on my bedroom floor and it wasn't even Christmas or my birthday.

That feeling stuck with me and I remember a few years ago giving some tops and sweaters I no longer wore to a girl I babysat in New York. She didn't have any sisters either and her smile as she looked at the clothes and tried things on lit up the room. 

This tradition has carried me long into adulthood and some of my favorite things are hand-me-downs from my mom, things that she wore when she was my age. This Irish wool sweater is the warmest, most comforting sweater I own. My mom got it in the Aran Islands off the coast of Ireland when she was about 20 and wore it a ton throughout her 20s. It's still in the most beautiful shape and so classic--the warm beige wool, the knitted design, the leather cognac-colored buttons. I love getting it out each fall and winter (which I didn't do at all in Alabama, so I've missed it) and I love its comforting and meaningful history.

These adorable black leather mary janes were also my mom's and also from Ireland. They were handmade by a cobbler in Cork and my parents got them on a trip to Ireland when my brother and I were babies. My mom must have worn these a ton because I have the most vivid memories of her in them. When I wear them now, even the way they sound when I walk sometimes flashes me right back to my childhood. It's pretty amazing. The soles were quite worn so recently I took them to a cobbler and they put on new half-soles. The rest of the shoe is in pristine shape and I'm pretty sure they'll last long enough for me to pass them on to my daughter someday.

(Don't you just love that soft, crinkly aged leather?! I've always said it--old leather beats new leather every time.)

I just happened to be wearing both of these special heirlooms yesterday and I had my husband snap a photo so I could share these stories. Because what we wear really does tell a story and how wonderful is it to slip on a pair of shoes your mom wore when you were just a baby, or cozy up in a sweater that kept her warm on countless days? There's so much history wrapped up in these treasures and I'm a lucky gal to have them.

Thanks, Mom. :)

I'm A Morning Person, What Are You?

A morning person too? Or a night owl?

Our windowsill capturing the glowy, morning light

I always think this is an interesting topic and maybe I'm wrong, but I think your answer to this question tends to say a lot about who you are.

I am most certainly a morning person. I set my alarm for 6:30 every day (even weekends) and sleeping in always makes me feel a little guilty, like I've shortened my day and wasted the best hours of it, to boot. (Although going back to bed with a cup of tea and a book is just about the greatest guilty pleasure I have.) I love the morning quiet and witnessing light come into the world, watching it change from grey to pink to yellow. The routines of morning are comforting to me. Making tea and grabbing my computer to write, often talking to my mom on the phone, eating a healthy breakfast. Even when my first few waking hours were more hectic--up at 6, out the door by 7 armed with music books, my lunch, a travel mug, and a metro card--I still liked my mornings best. There's such a freshness and energy about the hours before noon.

In college and grad school, I always made a point to do most of my practicing in the early part of the day and was amazed by friends of mine who would stay in the practice rooms until midnight or later. My mind--not to mention my fingers--just weren't up for late-night workouts. And in my opinion, "pulling an all-nighter" (which I've never done) is just about the worst thing anyone could possibly put themselves through. The mere idea of no sleep for 24 hours or more makes me ill. Not only am I a morning person, but I don't do well on little sleep.

It's a good thing I'm not embarrassed to admit that I'm an old soul because, once again, this particular trait of mine pegs me as just that. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that most 25-year-olds are not morning people. And I think most of them are much more fun in the hours after 9 pm than I am, too!

So here's my theory: I think that "night owls," by and large, tend to be energized by interacting with other people and being in an environment that is awake and active, whereas "morning people" seek the quietness of a world that is still a bit sleepy and use this time to recharge.

Is this obvious? Or way off base? Or just a completely boring topic??

I guess this post is stemming from my belief that there's something to be discovered in seemingly mundane human tendencies and preferences--winter or summer? white or red? Apple or PC? milk or dark?--and that we can learn a lot about ourselves by paying attention to even our smallest, simplest quirks and choices.

Psychologist Kate, signing off now.