I need to go shopping

For the last five plus years, I’ve either been trying to get pregnant, been pregnant or trying to NOT look pregnant.  I feel like I’ve been living in a sandbox- from actually being a sandbox at the park or trying to vacuum up the sand that traveled back to our apartment.  I’ve changed hundreds of diapers on the sticky floor of small NYC bathrooms because the restaurant was too cool to have a pull down changing table.  If I haven’t been wiping someone’s butt, I’ve been cleaning pee from around the toilet at home because my son gets distracted and pees….all over the wall.  My shirts have become an instant tissue for all small noses.  My cooking now consists of grilled cheese, pasta and….pasta with cheese.  I haven’t slept through the night since 2009.  I spend the better part of my day tying shoelaces, putting on helmets, trying to figure out where the poop smell is coming from and somehow trying to stay dry while giving two kids a nightly bath.

So—imagine my delight when my husband and I made the decision that we were done having babies and wanted to focus on the two we have with whatever ounce of sanity we each have left.  True- I’m sad that I’m done experiencing the joy of that new presence in my belly, the beautiful daydreams I had wondering what my children would look like and the ridiculous bliss of holding my newborn babies while they slept in my arms.  But- I’m not going to miss the swollen feet or horrible varicose veins that exploded on my calf (still disgusting to this day), the morning sickness, the pain of child birth and crying/hallucinating on the bathroom floor after the umpteenth night in a row of less than 2 consecutive hours of sleep. 

I haven’t put a lick of time into thinking about my clothing selections in these last five years.  Before I was pregnant, I was thinking about getting pregnant….so I didn’t shop.  Once I was pregnant, I lived in 4 outfits from Target Maternity.  After my first pregnancy, I wore whichever bottoms I could button with whichever shirt masked the mommy belly straining over the top of the pants.  I knew we would try for another baby so I didn’t shop.  Pregnancy number two—start all over.

Now, here I am….done with baby making and I’m starting to pick my head up out of the sand and am checking out the sad situation which is….my closet.  And, lucky me- due to a recent diet change at our household- I’ve lost an extra 6-7 pounds from my pre-baby weight.  I look pretty good (all things considered).  But- nothing fits.  I mean absolutely nothing.  I have jeans that fit just recently and now look like clown pants. My new party trick is that I button my pants, clasp a belt around my waist and still pull my jeans off without undoing anything.  The pants get all bunched so I look like I’m wearing a deflated balloon tucked under the belt.  After years of washing, every shirt I own is stretched and stained in some weird spot because of baby hands on me all day.  We recently went to visit friends’ overnight and I realized in the car on the way there that my shirt had a giant hole in it but since it was black and my bra was black, I could get away with it for the night.  Worse than that, my skirt (which oddly seemed to fit fine that morning) was so loose- I had to hold it up the rest of the evening when I walked....or it would literally fall down.  I’m a disaster.

I’ve felt at war with my body for the last few years because I feel like I donated it to procreation for a bit…but I want it back.  I’m glad I lost weight and feel good but I want to look good again.  I don’t want to look like a woman who got her clothes out of a dumpster….circa 1998.  (I’m still wearing a pair of sweat pants from high school—I mean- I even disgust myself)  I want some pants that fit – that I can wear in a sandbox….and wear later on a date with my man. 

This entire post could have been much shorter—I should have just said:

“I need to go shopping….”