I feel like I’m living in a fairytale right now, and not in a good way. I’m not sleeping beauty, I haven’t got a full nights sleep in over three years so her situation sounds great right about now. And I’m not Cinderella either. Although I do clean all day there’s no fairy god mother with a makeover in sight and I already have my Prince Charming. No, right now I’m living an episode of goldilocks and the three bears, wardrobe edition, and my pants are too big, too small, and seldom just right.
Being a woman and managing to dress yourself is complicated to begin with. Weight fluctuations make it harder. Damn hard. Throw in the havoc having children wreaks on your body and you are left with the dismal situation of ‘I’ve got nothing to wear’.
Thanks to two beautiful boys and a weight gain of around 30kgs during my first pregnancy my closet is now made up of 3 types of pants…
The too big – these are dangerous territory, you see, because when you are feeling lazy they look ever so comfortable. The problem here is that a few hours into the day they are falling off my now-not-pregnant butt and having to yank up your pants every time you bend down to pick up a child can turn into a sleep deprivation induced, irritation fuelled rage. Why won’t my damn pants stay on. Fml.
The too small – aah the days when you thought you were fat but really now you wish you were ‘that fat’. My size 8 pre baby skinny jeans mock me from the hanger bringing back memories of times when I could throw them on and ‘pop out for a drink’ without months of pre-planning. Now they waste my time by getting in the way of things I could actually be wearing while my toddler screams ‘where we going?!’
The just right – oh if I could write an ode to these rare gems. The ones that are tight enough to stay up without creating bulges that require a tent-like top to disguise. The ones that are decent enough looking to wear out but comfortable enough not to make you angry. These pants are so few and far between and I am damn sick of spending ten minutes of my morning, which equates to half an hour in normal person without kids time, looking through the others to find them.
But fear not. I have a solution for my fellow long (pants) suffering moms. In the immortal words of queen elsa – “let it gooooo” (sings loudly). I’m going minimalist. I’m throwing out all of the too big too small nonsense. I’m done having kids and I hope I never fit the too big pants without a baby bump so best remove the temptation to wear them. And the too small, well if I’m ever that size again you will be damn sure I deserve the reward of a new pants shopping spree. By the time I fit them we will all be wearing high waisted bell bottoms again anyway. So all the pants in my closet will fit me just right. And I’m pretty sure this will save me hours of my life. Who’s with me? ‘Let it goooo…’ (further loud singing as she throws away pants)