Cracking Myself Up

So I bought myself two pairs of jeans today. This is quite remarkable because A) I rarely buy for myself. B) Nick was with Crafty K at an indoor playgym (God bless that woman - she didn't even have her kids with her, but since she was hosting the mommy and me for her church, she wanted to take Nick as her guest... that woman is soooo getting the fancy highrise in heaven). C) Sophie slept - the WHOLE time.

It was a very odd experience to walk through Old Navy and just... look. And lo and behold, there were two pairs of size 12 long jeans that fit like a glove. This constitutes as remarkable # D because I don't know the last time I was a 12. And not to sound braggy, but I will, since it's my blog, I looked friggin goooood in them! I kept turning around to look at my ass and thought "either I'm on drugs, or these things make me pretty hot. I'm not talking J-Lo or MILF status (MILF - Mom I'd Love to Fuck) but I looked sexy for Mama P.

I was in such good spirits I bought 2 shirts, matching cable knits for the kids, and some pants/shirts for Nick. This goes down as Remarkable #E since I rarely buy new. But what the hell. My ass was doing the thinking, not my brain.

This became only too clear when I picked up Nick from Playsource. He was at the train table, and when I bent down to get him... pooooof. Air in the dairyair. (Yes, Mom, I know that's not how you spell butt in French, but I'm too lazy to look it up right now. And since my butt is the size it is due to lots of icecream, and I was feeling wind back there, dairy air works.) Honestly, there wasn't massive amounts of air, but to quote Dominic's favorite Thomas book, "There was a crack in the track!" To clarify: the pants didn't rip. The waist was just a tad too low. No major cheek cleavage, but enough to really bug me. I tried the whole "it's no big deal if I don't squat" defense. But as a mom of 2 toddlers, all I do is find myself on the floor, or hunched over a toilet. That just isn't going to work.

Then I got home and checked the VISA bill. Yikes. Buyers remorse started setting in big time. Sure, the kids would look adorable in their sweaters, but do they need them? And the shirt I got, it does look good with my bowling shoes, but so does KD Lange, and it's not the look I'm going for.

So, after some long soul searching, I am returning both jeans and the shirt I bought. I'm keeping the kids stuff. (I know that's a typical mom move, but hell, they friggin deserve some new digs for a change). As for me? I ordered one pair of 12 long WAIST jeans online and called it a day.

Kids are now sleeping. I'm cleaning my office, prepping dinner, and making mental plans to sell more Ebay stuff. Then I'm going to buy myself more clothes.

I swear.

No, really.

And shoes.

Seriously.

And when I post the picture of my angels in their red brand name cable knits, ya'll better post and tell me how friggin adorable they look! I will spare you the photo of my ass in the jeans. It ain't that kind of blog. But truthfully? I'm tempted to take one. Just as a reminder for what I look like next month when I'm back to my normal size 14 and then have to complain on this blog how I spent 30.00 on something I can't wear.