Yesterday I took off for a three hour shopping marathon. It was not fun. I was on a mission to get pants. Apparently when you lose 20 pounds your pants don't stay up so I was desperate- I literally had not a single pair of shorts or capris that fit me. However, I don't exactly have the funds for a new wardrobe. To me, shopping is work. I don't have that skinny, pre-baby carrying body that could wear any style anymore. She is gone, never to return. And so, it is tricky to find styles that aren't "teeny bopperish" and muffin top baring, but also aren't "matronly." Seriously. Work.
When I got dressed in the morning, I knew I was going to be trying clothes on in a hurry. So I dressed for it. That includes no jewelry. And my ugly shoes. I wore Crocs shopping. And I couldn't help but think about how mortified my mother and my sister would be if they'd had to shop with me. When they go shopping they look super cute- lipstick, jewelry, cute shoes... It's okay- I got the job done and I now have pants that fit.