My wonderful husband made reservations for dinner on Saturday to celebrate our anniversary. I am so excited, but also a little bummed because I have nothing to wear. So I go shopping this morning. I know it's raining but I am feeling skinny because I broke the "20 lbs to lose" mark on the scale this morning. Even though after my weigh in I ate a jelly doughnut for breakfast.
I fed the baby, changed him, changed him again because he threw up just as I was strapping him in the carseat and left. Out the door I went with high spirits and thoughts of the baby falling asleep in the car and at least an hour's worth of good shopping. When I got to the store I filled my stroller everything I thought would suit my "not so fit" physique. Dresses, skirts, blouses, pants, the possibilities were endless. I wandered to the fitting room with my choices and almost immediately my son starts to cry. So I tried to shove on a dress as fast as I could to console him but it got stuck half way down. An obvious bad choice of size. Now I'm torn. Do I try to get the dress on correctly with hopes that it will look better once it's not wrapped around my torso or do I pick up my now screaming infant. I chose to pick up my infant. Any mother would right?
Looking back I should have pulled down the dress. So I'm now holding a calm baby with a silk dress bound up around my torso. I'm looking at myself in the mirror, thinking goodness gracious I have absolutely no right being here. Not even my ankles look good enough to be shopping for new clothes. I put the sleeping baby down and wriggle my way out of this horrible concoction. And just as I struggled with the next failed attempt, my newborn begins to cry again. I toss up my hands and say to myself that I should have known when he threw up just as we were walking out the door.
So how does this story end? I left the store with two shirts for my husband.
Favorite Sinatra albums, et cetera
1 year ago