I remember being in high school and trying to buy jeans. I would occasionally get some money set aside for clothes, and in a fit of optimism I'd head out to a store with a likely sale. I'd try on pair after pair until I found some that covered my ankles, then I'd say, surely These ones will work, and take them home. Where I would wash them. And they would shrink. And my ankles would show. And my money would be wasted and I'd have to be angry at myself 'cause I knew better, but I spent the only money I had on them and now all I had to wear were GOD DAMN SPOCK PANTS.
Then I discovered Boy's Jeans. These came in long lengths and straight legs and were just the ticket.
The year before Peanut was born I decided I was tired of wearing clothes I hated. My beloved Loon gave me some hand-me-down jeans that were made for girls and they were cute. I began doing a little looking on my own and discoved great strides had been made in women's jeans. I collected a full set of jeans I loved, then started collecting a set of T-shirts.
At which point I got pregnant.
Which meant that none of those clothes fit. So I tried to collect a small set of happy pregnancy clothes, but unless you're rich it ain't happening.
Now I'm post-pregnancy, but I'm slipping past my pre-pregnancy weight. I'm not complaining about losing weight, but all those lovely fun jeans were size 14. For the past month or so I haven't have to unbutton my jeans to pee.
My Mother-in-law noticed, so for a birthday present she took me to Old Navy to get some britches. I grabbed some 14s and some 12s. I was surprised the 14s were too big. I was downright shocked the 12s were too. So I make a run for some 10s. Oddly, the 10s seemed too tight. So I go out the stall and show off my booty to my MIL to see what is up. The girl who is the Keeper of the Keys says most people wear the jeans that tight, but it seems obscene to me. I decide I'm a 12 Long.
Which they have. Do young people today realise how good they have it? Straight leg girls' jeans that come in a long. Who'd a thunk it.
Then the MIL says "Try on this shirt". It is soft as butter, and light as a feather, and tight as something really tight. I put it on with the jeans and I feel so weird. The jeans fit and the shirt does too. You can see my body. How strange. I can't help but stare in the mirror. I decide Simon will like the effect. Maybe I will put a picture up, and you will understand what a mind fuck it was to try on clothes that fit.
So I come home and put on the clothes for the Boy and Simon. Boy says "Wow" with a little gasp. I could have kissed him.
The up shot is I've come full circle. Hating my clothes, finding some clothes I liked, not fitting the clothes I liked, hating the clothes I have...now I'm finding some more clothes I like.
Is the next step to get pregnant again?
I'll let you know tomorrow- I'm peeing on the stick in the morning.
Wish me Luck,