Baby Fat SUCKS

My dress is so tight right now that it reminds me of what Dolly Parton’s character says in the movie Steel Magnolia’s. “It looks like 2 pigs fighting under a blanket.” The dress was a gift, but I should have known better. It is a gift for the body I had before giving birth to my second child. Now I will spend all day trying not to expose myself as the dress and my body fight for freedom.

It all started this weekend when I decided not to do laundry. I am currently in limbo between no longer needing maternity clothes and not being able to fit my old clothes. This leaves me with limited options, particularly in terms of what I can wear to work. My refusal to buy new clothes is not helping. It is not just that I don’t want to buy a bigger size. I really just don’t want anymore stuff. I am on stuff overload. I really want to start going through things and cleaning out my closet before I buy more stuff to add to the confusion.

So I woke up this morning 4 days behind schedule with the laundry and 15 minutes late with some tough choices to make. First, was I willing to iron? NO! That eliminated all pant shirt combos because all of my remaining shirts are wrinkled or casual. Next, maternity dress or regular dress? NO MORE MATERNITY! How can I expect people to stop making comments about me looking pregnant if I continue to wear maternity clothes? That left 3 regular sized dresses. One is stretched out from me stuffing my ginormous pregnant body into it with baby number one. (Why do I still even have this?) Dress number 2 has long sleeves and it is August in the South. That is a no go. That left the dress I am currently wearing as the last option. I checked the tag to be sure that there would not be any “this doesn’t fit” heartbreak all the while noting that the double digit number on the tag would have at one time sent me into a downward shame spiral or into hysterics that someone would buy me a dress that big. Oh, how times have changed! Karma is real and she is not a nice woman.

Before putting it on, my biggest concern was not to have a VPL. So I broke out my black Vickies, strapless, and headed into the bathroom to get ready before waking up the Monster and the Booga.  The dress goes on easy and zips without me sucking and holding, but then it happens. BAM! I see myself in the mirror. Internal dialogue- it looks like I am trying to smuggle a loaf of bread under there. Now I have another choice to make. I could try to find something else or I could suck it up and try to make this work. So I go out into my bedroom to hunt for my SPANX and what do I see? My LoLo Monster is now awake 20 minutes ahead of schedule and watching TV in my bed. “CRAP, I was planning to try to finally shave my legs today!” Husband tells me, “Have a nice day” before kissing me good-bye. Internal dialogue – “Yeah, I’ll have a nice day 20 pounds from now. Right now I am just glad my job involves lots of sitting.”

Girdle found. Damn it, it’s not tight enough. (That is right I said damn. Yes, I am still a Christian. Damn, like hell, should not be considered a curse because, like hell, damnation is real. That is my story and I am sticking to it.) Uggh! I don’t have time for this. I grab a sweater. Race to get the Monster ready. Wake up Suga Booga and realize that my hemline is making its way north with every hurried step. I just got all the Veet hair remover off my leg because in my mind I needed to balance the too tight dress with smooth legs and unlike shaving I could smear that on while getting my son dressed.

I somehow wrangle my sweet babies into the car. Arrive at Grandparent Day Care and what does my mother say, “Ooo. That dress is a little tight don’t you think?”

Ugggh! Baby fat SUCKS! That is what I think!