One might think that someone drowning under a landslide of laundry would be able to find something to wear at any given moment.
Nope. Not the case.
This is why I was running late to the last mom’s group lunch — because I was trying on all of the clothes in that top Leaning Tower of Pisa pic, but nothing fit right. Everything was too small.
This is probably one of those instances where my inside thoughts should not be outside thoughts, because I feel self-absorbed and selfish even contemplating something like this, but I need to know if I’m the only person who’s had these thoughts in such great detail…
It’s been two years since Connor popped out of my body, and for two years I’ve held on to my pre-pregnancy clothes.
Before Connor, I just assumed that by the time she was two years old I’d be able to get back into those clothes again. Other moms have told me that your hips and ribs eventually shift back to where they had been before, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen for me at this point. Everything is just wider than it used to be. My hips, my booty, my upper body. Everything.
Part of me knows I need to turn the page and build a new wardrobe at my current size, because, well…even though I don’t fit into those old clothes anymore, I’m generally happy with my body. Yes, I look different than I used to, but I’m physically stronger than I was when I was skinnier a few years ago, and I KILL IT when we do burpies and weighted switch lunges in HITT class. Oh, and is that a heavy sand bag?? Yeah, I can press that bad boy over my head!
I may have been able to fit into my short shorts back then, but I know I wasn’t strong enough to do things like that.
My current shirt and pant size are the largest I’ve ever worn, and sometimes I wonder if I should keep fighting against that, or accept it. I don’t know if accepting the size I am right now is me just giving up.
Even though I’m happy with where I’m at, I feel like I should keep trying to get back into those clothes, which sounds like a contradiction, I know, but yeah, I am conflicted! I don’t know what to do! LOL. Part of me thinks, “I can do it. I know I can.”
But do I want to? Do I care that much? Is it necessary? Am I just being vain?
Part of me also doesn’t want to (well, it wants to, but it doesn’t think it should) buy a bunch of new clothes now because Connor will be starting preschool in a few months, and girl, childcare in America is no joke! We hear that all the time, and it has become a cliché, but kids. Really. Are. Expensive.
Also, at this point, I don’t even know why I should bother to look cute. Half the time I have food or crayon on my clothes anyway. It’s more that I’m getting of tired of looking like I wear pajamas all day long. I just feel better when I look sharp and less slovenly.
Ugh…I should probably just wait for one of LOFT’s 50% off sales and get a few things to tide myself over.
What do you think? Am I just being selfish? Should I keep holding on to my old clothes? Is it unhealthy for me to care about being small enough to fit into them again?
Anyway, thanks for listening. Somebody, anybody, please talk some sense into me!
Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,