Hot By Thirty

I should probably just start a new category called PANTS

When I dragged myself down to the treadmill this afternoon I saw a box propped up against my door. (Note: my front door is made of glass. It's like a big empty picture frame. For, uh, four years now I've been meaning to buy a shade. Oops!) I figured it was some sort of Electronic Equipment, the kind of thing my husband purchases online while I am half asleep, but NO. It was a package! For me! From Elizabeth! Containing seven [SEVEN!] cds full of Songs To Run To!

Elizabeth wrote a very inspiring post on how to start running. That combined with the series of running posts I found here (and wow, am I late to that party!) kind of kicked my butt into gear exercise-wise, but I STILL have yet to try running outside. [Hangs head in shame.] That one day I said I was going to do it... yeah, that didn't happen. I'm SKEERED!

But now I have running music, which is good because I have very little in the way of Running Music and even if I had a lot, the administrative garbage I have to wade through to load anything onto my iPod is discouragement in and of itself. (Something about not sharing iTunes, networked computers, different iPods, legality BLAH BLAH BLAH.)

You know what else I have? RUNNING PANTS.

Oh yes. I took myself on a therapeutic run to Target this evening (and I am NOT JOKING about the therapeutic). There were necessities on my list, yes, but when Phillip took Molly out of my arms and clucked sympathetically, saying, "Take as long as you want!" you BET I was going to take as long as I wanted. I've been through the housewares/clothes clearance racks a time or two lately and tonight decided that I'd sniff through the work out section. You know. Just see what kind of moisture-wicking spandexed kind of life I could be leading.

Apparently it is hot pink. Which is fine by me, you know, but not with spaghetti straps or teeny tiny skort thingies. YEAH RIGHT. I'm not hot YET, Target. I examined every rack of yoga pantsish things, but found nothing that looked right. But when I wandered into the unmentionables section there were a million more racks of work out pants and I struck gold.

I should note that I have a few pairs of yoga pants/work out pants already. I have real yoga pants, but they're all too long for me so the hems are ripped or otherwise ruined, the waists are either too big or stretched out, and when I try to run in them they fall down. I have a pair of stretchy Reebok capris my mom gave me when I told her I was taking yoga many moons ago, but those are actually too big now. And my super soft cropped pants from Lucy are torn and worn out. Because I [hangs head in shame AGAIN] wear these things every single day. I mean, sometimes I put on real pants (and I always put on real pants when I go out, SNIFF) but to wear around the house? Do baths and lunch and diapers and stories? Pants a step up from "pajama" will do.

Which is how I justified buying three pairs (THREE. PAIRS.) of yoga/work out pants at Target tonight. I only meant to buy something I could wear on the treadmill, but all three pairs fit in the dressing room and I thought: MIGHT AS WELL UPDATE THE UNIFORM. I bought a pair of tight stretchy capris with a white racing stripe on the sides, a pair of gray sweats that end at my knees (I'm thinking I'll wear those if I ever get the you know whats to run outside this spring/summer) and a pair of PETITE yoga pants that I wouldn't be embarrassed to wear to a friend's house on a playdate. Who knew they made PETITE! (I am not petite, by the way, but juuuust short enough so that regular pants are always an inch too long.)

I have heard that Lululemon makes To Die For Yoga Pants, pants that negate getting oneself a butt lift (which: how?) but I've also heard you have to take out a second mortgage to buy a pair. So it's Target me for me. I'm thrilled. I swear, it's like I bought myself a new wardrobe. (BECAUSE I DID.)

I ran a little more today and I'm relieved to note that a week of stomach flu has not put me back at the beginning. (Although I'm pretty scared to Shred. Sigh.) And I spent half an hour on the phone cursing The Baby Weight with a friend. This would be the same friend who was horrified at her Nine Months Pregnant Weight without realizing I was a full 25 pounds ABOVE that weight and NOT PREGNANT. So, you know, my sympathy is limited. But she's also the friend who hissed, "BETRAYAL!" when I told her I'd started Chubby Girl Slow Jogging. We talked a while about starting from scratch. You know- figuring out what to eat and how to be active when you haven't done either of those things well in a long time. Or ever. I relayed the Gospel of Jillian Michaels, we discussed jogging strollers, shoes, back pain, milk supply, all that stuff. And it felt awesome to be the one who's already doing it, you know?

(Okay, sort of. Elizabeth also sent me a giant bag of jellybeans and COME ON IT WAS A PRESENT.)

Keeping Goodwill in business

As soon as my in-laws showed up yesterday afternoon, I marched upstairs for Mission: Get Rid Of It. The endless chore of sorting and storing outgrown baby clothes had morphed into cleaning out my own closet as well. And this morning Phillip hauled three garbage bags' worth of clothes and one shopping bag of shoes to Goodwill.

And what's left? Almost nothing. You know how girls are always going on about having nothing to wear? In my case IT IS TRUE.

I started with my bursting tub of summer clothes, just because I knew I could throw some of it out and make some room to store maternity clothes. I haven't worn anything in that tub for two summers now, on account of having babies. I kept maybe half of it, the things I really loved and hoped would fit next summer. The other half went straight to the Goodwill pile.

Then I pulled all the maternity stuff out. I threw away the two pairs of pants that saw me through two pregnancies (I'm sure Goodwill would have thrown them away too) and piled everything else in the storage tub. I kept a few things, like worn out tank tops I wear to use the treadmill, and a sweater and a shirt that don't look like maternity clothes, but I put away everything else. Even the jeans. YES I DID. I don't want maternity pants in my closet. Bye bye!

After that I went through the "real" clothes- what was left. I finally got rid of the work clothes I'll never wear again- button down shirts, slacks that made me look 45, sweaters that never fit right. Maybe one day I'll go back to work, but not in those things. I went through the dressier stuff and pulled out all the things I hadn't been able to throw out before. The long gray dress that looks gorgeous on the hanger and terrible on me? Out. The two little black dresses I picked up in thrift stores in college? And hadn't worn since then? Out. The shapeless Gap sundress? Out. I did keep the purple bridesmaid dress, but only because I hope to go as an eggplant for Halloween one of these days. (And I kept the black suit I've worn exactly once in five years because I'm thinking I might go as Sarah Palin this year. I mean, I've got the hair! I've got the glasses!)

And then I swept through my giant stack of Plain T-Shirts with a very critical eye. These are the things I live in. They are all from Target or Old Navy or the Gap. They all have something wrong with them. Some of them are left over from the Oh My God This Baby Left Me Two Sizes Bigger Than I've Ever Been days. Some of them are from the I Am Two Sizes Smaller Than I've Ever Been How Awesome Is That! days. I kept my favorites and a few others for working out/spit up/pajama purposes.

What is left is a couple of sweaters, a few pairs of pants, a handful of shirts, and about 47 versions of Prim Black Cardigan. Oh, and about half of those things actually fit me at the moment.

I checked out Tim Gunn's Wardrobe Essentials and a few other must-have posts around the nets, but I'm loathe to buy many of those things until I really do lose the baby weight. I didn't want to buy ANYTHING, seeing as how I wasted so much money on cheap 'transition clothes' after I had Jack. But I can't live without a pair of jeans that fit me, people. That's a necessity. I think I just need to stay away from buying seven dollar t-shirts that fall apart after one washing and the pants that look half decent in the dressing room and stretch out as soon as you get home. I will have a much more discerning eye. And I will buy things that I will still like if when I lose the baby weight. For now I think I'm all about a pair of in-between jeans (I've got the too-big ones and the too-tight ones), a dress for the baptism and a handful of sweaters/tops that aren't too fitted so as not to show off my less than stellar midsection. That should get me through, right? It's not like I'm going anywhere besides the grocery store.