Ready for the Flood…

Yesterday was the first day I’ve needed dress pants in a few weeks. The week of Christmas and New Years, our office was casual. For Christmas Eve I donned leggings to Church {with accompanying pieces, of course}. So, I went to get ready for work only to discover that our dress clothes were still out to the cleaners. I pulled out a pair of Motherhood pregnancy pants I wore throughout my first-time trimesters and slipped them on. I soon remembered why I wore flats during the entire second and third trimester. What is the deal with maternity pants being so stinkin’ short? I am a short person and yet, you would think I have the legs of a long and lanky model the way these pants skim the top of my shoes. I knew I was in a bad place but just had to go with it. With my somewhat unkempt leg hair {yeah, I grow a few extra days between in the winter} a skirt or dress just were not an option and as noted, I had no pants to speak of.

I put on the pants and a somewhat fitted maternity top because of course, I feel like I’m showing. But let’s not joke around here, I’m not showing more than my freshman year of college when I packed on a good 40 pounds {and that belly consisted of nothing outside of food and beer}. The outfit was a disaster from the get-go. And just got worse throughout the day.

First of all, every time I stood up, I realized just how short the pants were in the reflection of my office window. This prompted me to pull them down every time I stood up … which made me want to waddle like a penguin … flip flop floop {name the book}. Once I pulled the pants down, the panel sat well below my hips, which resulted in me pulling my shirt as far down as it could go. This also led to some very unfortunate and unflattering focus on my midsection and hip region. It just wasn’t good.

Following work I stopped by the mall to pick up some pj’s at the Victoria’s Secret {who are they kidding? there are no secrets there.} semi-annual sale. As I was walking through the mall and talking with Adam on the phone, I walked past a girl. I thought she walked past me. But it was clear. She couldn’t get past my pants. And it wasn’t like a “hey, that girl looks so cute, I wonder where she got her digs” gaze. I wanted to yell out “Haven’t you heard about the flood?!” or “Listen skinny Suzy, you’re 14 and have clearly never harbored a human on your person” but rather, I let her pass me and shared my sentiments with Adam. If only skinny Suzy could see our Barrett, then she would know that she may one day be willing to sacrifice fashion for her fetus. But alas.

I need to just go to Gap and get a pair of long black dress pants that won’t shrink but it stinks to put the money into such things for a 2 month span…and after a very short shopping session the other day in which Barrett spent a timeout in the corner of the Gap bathroom, I am trying to limit his face time with Gap. But. I will do it. I will brave shopping with a tempermental toddler. I will drop the dough on the basic blacks. Because really, I can’t possibly put the penguin pants on another day.