3 weekends ago, I found myself headed to the mall, in search of new clothes. While I am close to my pre-pregnancy weight (notice I didn't say my "ideal" weight, merely my pre-this-must-be-what-a-baby-whale weighs, weight), pregnancy has left me lumpy in odd places and none of my pre-pregnancy clothes fit right. As anyone who knows me at all knows, I hate, with a burning passion, shopping for clothes. You can imagine, then, that the lumpiness combined with the prospect of facing a task I hate had left me in a less than stellar mood. Throw in some killer post-pregnancy hormones and this was a disaster waiting happen. I should have known better.
Before undertaking this task, I drove through a fast food place near the mall and bought myself a Diet Coke. I also threw caution to the wind and bought a cinnamon roll. I'm already lumpy, right? What's a cinnamon roll going to do? I pulled into a nearby parking lot to eat said cinnamon roll. I should have paid more attention to where I'd stopped to eat my fast-food breakfast...I looked up to see myself sitting 10 feet from the entrance to a "Curves" fitness center. Adding insult to injury, this particular "Curves" was getting a jump start on the New Year Resolution fitness buffs and had a sign across the front declaring, "
Re-discover the "real" you in 30 minutes!" I thought,"HA! It'll take a whole lot more than 30 minutes to 're-discover' anything remotely resembling the 'real' me!" At which point I cried. Kind of a lot. HORMONAL, remember?! All this just added to my already black mood. Looking back on this, I think the universe was trying to tell me something at that moment. And that "something" was, 1. What on earth were you thinking, eating that disgusting cinnamon roll in the first place? and 2. Clothes shopping right now, a mere 4 weeks after having a baby and in the mood you are in, is a very, very bad plan.
I ignored the universe.
I attempted to find clothes. After multiple failed attempts which culminated in trying on a skirt that was 4 sizes larger than I usually wear (yes, 4.) only to find that it
still didn't fit right (way too big in some places, while way too clingy in others. LUMPY, I TELL YOU!) I gave in and cried. Yes. That's right. I cried. Again. In the dressing room. At the mall. What? Did you think this was going to be some inspirational,
"I came to terms with the fact that I am fat and lumpy and can't find clothes that fit and now I love myself just as I am!" kind of post?! Not a chance. I'm fat and lumpy and it's irritating and I hate it and I don't really 'do' inspirational.
Which brings me to my point. After spending the weekend and the better part of the next week in quite the bad mood, I determined to do something about the residual lumpiness. It took 2 weeks to get Isaac on board with my brilliant plan, but now: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME!
It is being delivered on Monday. There will be no more crying in parking lots. Or dressing rooms.
The end.
