Shopping

I have a confession, I dislike hate to shop. This wasn’t always the case.  BC ( before children) I thought shopping was a great pass time. But those were the days  I could enter any store try on a wet paper bag and look relatively cute. It all started to change after my first child. My body had mysteriously altered, now it took a little more effort to find clothes that looked good. Not to mention carting along an infant or toddler definitely decreased the enjoyment. By the time baby #2 arrived things had seriously gone south and taking 2 kids shopping, well lets just say that a trip to the dentist was preferable. At least I could do that alone. It was a quick descent from there. 2 more children arrived and looking “cute” no longer crossed my mind. I was happy when everyone was fed, reasonably clean, and no one was bleeding. This was a successful day. My jeans, having been worn so many days in a row would walk over to greet me in the morning as I was getting dressed.

So imagine my disgust when the other day I realized that I would again, (this is the second shopping trip for this pregnancy) need to go shopping. Because I haven’t been pregnant in ..umm.. sometime I have no maternity clothes. Also having survived my days of small children and pants that take on a life of their own I like to look somewhat put together when I go out. This requires more than my usual outfit of t-shirts and yoga pants I like to wear around the house. So off to the store I go. Now before I start this let me point out that I have gained throughout this pregnancy 3 pounds. This has not been on purpose, food just tastes crappy.( Another cruel joke played by the hands of fate along with the no beer thing.) So I take my selections into the fitting room and get started.  I start with 2 nice, and comfortable looking dresses, in my pre-preganancy size. This  is what they tell you to buy.  I can’t get them past the “girls”! As I stand there in my underwear ( you can’t call undergarments this big panties),  with my arms splayed to the sides, and the dress stuck at chest level all I can think is “They aren’t done growing yet!”. I have 3 months left and as anyone who has ever given birth before knows, they  increase 2-3 cup sizes after birth. I’m trying to imagine what type of NASA engineered devise is going to be required to keep them relatively contained supported. They’re going to need their own zip code for heaven’s sake! The “girls” will be entering rooms minutes before the rest of me. The potential for child suffocation is real with these puppies. They have never gotten this big before. I was heavier when I had my last child so you would think all things being equal they too would be somewhat smaller. And to add injury to insult they hurt so much they are doing no one any good. Least of all poor Craig. I’m wondering if this is another age thing that no one ever tells you about.

The trip did however end on a good note. I started picking up clothes for the baby. Who I’m sure will have no such fitting issues. At first.

I considered putting up a picture of me stuck in the dress, but in the interest of the public good decided to go with cute baby clothes.

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One response to this post.

  1. I really enjoyed this post. In fact, it had me laughing out loud in some places. Best wishes as you prepare for the new baby.

    Reply

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