It appears that my case of the "Mondays" has rolled over into Tuesday! I am about to share a most embarassing story....but it's really funny (after the fact) so I thought if I could get one person to snicker at this, it might make them feel good. So here goes.....
Let me preface this story with some minor background. As some of you know, I am trying to lose the last 8 pounds of my "baby weight" before Morgan's birthday. It seems that these 8 pounds are going to stick around forever (I've had 8-10 pounds to lose since DECEMBER), but I have been going to Weight Watchers meetings and trying (currently unsuccessfully) to follow the program that helped me lose 20 pounds before. I mean, it's 8 pounds! My goal was/is to lose all of my baby weight by Morgan's birthday. So, 8 pounds, 8 weeks. Sounds doable, right? Well, after going to WW for 9 weeks, I have had a net weight loss of ONE pound. Seems my stomach has yet to figure out that I am not pregnant, thus do not need to eat like a pregnant lady anymore! But I digress...
After my crazy Monday (see yesterday's post), I woke up Tuesday groggy, but feeling pretty good. I was feeling especially good when I got dressed, putting on a pair of khaki pants I have not been able to wear for a while. They looked good, and they were loose. I was thrilled. As normal, we were running late getting out the door to work. As I bent down to fasten Morgan into the carseat, I hear a VERY LOUD RRRIIIIPPPPPPP! That's right, my pants had split from seam to seam, exposing my rear to the world! Thank goodness I was wearing cute underwear. I sat, stunned, for a couple seconds realizing what had just happened. Then I thought "Thank GOODNESS this happened at home!" and ran into my bedroom to get another pair of pants. With a covered rear, we bolted out the door to work.
All went well in the morning....work was crazy as normal but nothing horrible. At 11:30 I decided to call Patrick because I had a craving for a taco salad from Rio Grande. He said he'd have to see if his friend was ready to go and he'd call me back. At ONE o'clock he finally called back and said things were crazy at work and he couldn't come. By this point I was getting cranky from lack of food. So I decided to finish unpacking my boxes from last week's conference and then fix a salad (thinking maybe I could trick my tastebuds with lettuce into thinking it was a taco salad). As I bent down to get the last few folders out of the box, I heard another LOUD RRRIIIPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know, I couldn't believe it either, but yes I had split ANOTHER pair of pants! And this rip was even larger, spanning not only the seam of the pants, but down one leg!
My immediate reaction, sadly, was to cry. So that is what I did. I sat on the floor of my office and cried like an idiot. THEN I called Patrick to cry to him about the huge hole in my pants and the fact that my rear must have ballooned overnight and that it must be the size of Texas to split two pair of pants in less than 6 hours! He was kind enough to suggest that the pants were very old and that is why they split, but that didn't make me feel any better. And I had to deal with the fact that it was 1:15. What was I going to do for the rest of the day? I couldn't go shopping for a new pair of pants...not with the gaping hole in the current pair. I didn't want to drive the 30 minutes home and then back to work (not only wasting an hour of work, but at $3.00 a gallon, the gas). I happen to keep a long white sweater in my office for days when it is chilly. So that was my solution. I shut my door for the rest of the day and when I did have to leave my office, I wore the sweater. Many of my co-workers looked at my funny, since it was 88 degrees outside on Tuesday, but I managed to get through the rest of the day without exposing myself, and when I got home I was so disgusted I promptly threw both pair of pants in the trash!
SO that was Tuesday. I haven't ripped any pants today. I told Patrick if I split another pair of pants I was getting back into bed and not going anywhere, ever. Let's hope that those two pair were threadbare and dry-rotted, and my butt really isn't the B'donk-a-donk butt that comes from eating too much fast food (I hope you have seen this Subway commercial!).
Today I reflected a lot on what it means to me to be a mother, on mothers who have lost their babies too soon, on my wonderful mother, and on mothers who have gone on to be with God (including both of my grandmothers). I remembered how much I longed to be a mother and prayed for a child. I remembered how happy I was when I found out I was expecting, and how that joy continues today. Even though today was filled with cranky cries, I am glad that Morgan wants to be with me so much that she will cry for me.
My hope is to remember how great it is to be a mother, even through the hard times that are sure to come. Every day is worth the smile I get when I go in to see Morgan in the morning, the hug and pats on the back I get when I pick her up, and the quiet time in the evening when my drowsy/sleeping almost toddler is laying against my chest.
