Today I had big plans to get out of the house with the baby and see how things went. I'm still in that precarious place between healing from the c-section and finally starting to feel more like myself and oh yeah, GOING STIR CRAZY. I'm not really supposed to lift the car seat by myself yet but I did ok with that yesterday so I figured it'd be all right. When my husband heard about my upcoming outing, he did something totally out of character. He told me to SPEND MONEY. The conversation went something like this:
Me: "Hey, I think I'm going to try and take Sydney to Target by myself today. We need diapers and some other stuff anyway."
Him: "Yeah, it'll be good for you to get out. In fact, while you're there, buy yourself some new clothes if you need to."
Me: (Stunned silence).
Him:"Well, you said you needed to get some stuff, right?"
Me: (Dumbfounded nodding of head. Drool).
For a little background, my husband hates spending money more than anyone I've ever met in my life. It's one of those yin vs. yang things because, you guessed it, I LOVE spending money. When we were first married — and BROKE — John helped me mend my money-hemorrhaging ways with this awful thing called a budget. Three years ago I could seriously calculate a cart of groceries within a dollar of the actual total … including tax! Thankfully we don't have to be as super-extremely-ridiculously careful these days. Still, the effects of that first year have stayed: I am now so used to penny-pinching that I actually feel guilty spending money on things we need (such as nursing bras … oh my gosh that one killed me).
Anyway, in my GLEE! over getting to cut a little loose today I decided to pull out some of my "fat pants" to see what exactly I needed to get to fill in. BAD STUPID HORRIBLE IDEA. They were nowhere close to buttoning, don't even mention them being way, way too tight. I wore these pants up until I was 4 months pregnant! WAAAAAHHHHH! I'm not going to lie, I stupidly thought that they might actually fit. I'm a little sick of wearing the same pair of black pajama pants every day instead of real pants. I'm not totally against wearing maternity pants for a while (hello, why don't ALL pants have stretchy waistbands?) but I'm not crazy about it either. Out of curiosity, how long do people wear maternity clothes after the baby is born? Is there a statute of limitations? Because it's gonna kill me to buy any pants with numbered sizing right now. Ugh.
And just when I was starting to think that I could eat unlimited cookies as long as Sydney breastfeeds. BOO.