More Clothes Woes

Don't you just hate it when people say, "Ugh, I look so terrible," when they are really saying, "Tell me how beautiful I am?"

This is not that, I swear.

The good news:

• I'm losing weight pretty fast and steadily without effort. I still have a very, very long way to go to return to normal size, but I dropped two pants sizes in about a month and a half. Now I'm a size 10. I'm normally between a size 6-8. That means I am pretty close to my regular pants size.  
• Goodwill carries extremely cheap (<$4), new-ish jeans in all sizes.
• mid/high-rise jeans are currently in style. Anything else does not work for me, period.

The irritating news:

• Not even one single pair of the pants I bought a month and a half ago fit me anymore. They are just way, wayyy too big. Danny started calling me "the Saggy-Bottom Girl" (O Brother, Where Art Thou). My mother in law gently hinted that it was time to buy some new pants. Yeah, yeah. It is. I just can think of a thousand other things I'd rather do. 
• Not even one single pair of my normal pre-pregnancy pants fit, so I had to go to the store to buy something in between. Shopping in general isn't that fun. It's funner with other people. Clothes shopping when you still don't look the way you wish you did/are used to looking is literally never fun. It's an exercise in negative body image.  
• And I'm still nowhere near my regular shirt size.

And that is the main comment that you  could easily construe as some kind of humblebrag/compliment fishing. "Ugh, my boobs are just so big," sure does sound like, "Look at my hot and sexy curvy body and feel super jealous (if you're a girl) or attracted to me (if you're a guy)." 'Cuz you know, all men like big breasts, out of my sample size of 1.   

I really, really do not.

I am breastfeeding. I'm really busty. As soon as this baby weans, it will be like balloons deflating or something. I'll be able to sleep on my stomach without arching my back in something like chaturanga. I'll be able to run without pain. I'll fit in my dresses again. I'll fit in my bras again. I'll fit in lingerie again. 

But more basic than any of those things, I'll be able to find shirts that fit again. 

Right now I can either choose between looking like I'm wearing a sack or like I'm an annoying instagram model. There is no size for me at all. They don't make shirts my size. If it's size XL, it's wayyyyy too wide, but finally long enough. If it's size L it's the right width but always riding up my back. If it's size M, my normal size, I feel incredibly self-conscious. We aren't even talking about anything special here, just like, t-shirts!

I'm not a fan of wearing clothes that are uncomfortable. How stupid. I don't want to wear a super tight sports bra that makes me feel completely bruised and achy on my back, even if it is the only way to fit in my shirts! I don't want to be constantly adjusting the top of my shirt so that it isn't revealing cleavage or crawling up my back! A slightly less urgent problem is the fact that none of my garment tops are long enough, either. These are just undershirts, so they matter a lot less, but...just...grrr!

I guess this post will cause the curious reader to want to flip through recent photos of me or something to verify that yeah, I'm really out of proportion. I have always tried so hard to avoid calling attention to my chest (you know, except in this blog post. Sigh), so good luck with that. But here, on this blog, it's all the aboutness layer of things, which is and should be almost totally free range. And I am #(*@($(&%&$#&(ing irritated about this. No resolution until it is written, I guess. 

In summary:

• I'm happy I've been able to breastfeed my babies. That should not be taken for granted.
• I'll be happy when it's over, too.
• But Danny will be less happy. 

I guess look for another similar post in 2 months or so, if this trend holds.