Good morning, folks. It’s Whiny Wednesday and I have another whine for you. I’m sure you’ll enjoy my misery!
My clothes are getting looser, and I can now wear a some of the smaller things in my closet without feeling like a slug caught in a straw. I even wore a pair of old capri knit pants this weekend that I haven’t worn since before I got pregnant with my second. But, as much as I loved that I fit into them, they have inexplicably become too big, even though I still weigh more now than I did when I last wore them. I swear, I can pull the waist band up to my boobs and still not have a camel toe!
And, back to the underwear. I am a fan of the “hip-hugger” style underwear. Not too low, not too high, covers my butt, and don’t ride up. My hubs has been poking fun of my undies, because apparently, they don’t fit. I either have them pulled up to the small of my back (har har har), or they sag so it looks like I’m saving room for a-ahem-download. After I feared my husband might die from the lack of air from laughing so hard, I decided I should probably dig out some better fitting ones. So I did, and I’m glad I already had some brand new skivvies that didn’t fit when I bought them, but fit great now!
And the saddest news of all: not only is my ass shrinking faster than the rest of me, but my meager amount of boob has decided to jump ship as well. I was reminded of my grandmother, who has shoulder pads sewn in every shirt she owns. She told me once how she used to use her spare shoulder pads as bra stuffing back in the day. I briefly thought about following suit. Briefly! I swear!
I haven’t tried one of my smaller bras yet as I’m not sure which box they might be in. Mostly though, it makes me sad my boobs are going away. Everyone loses weight differently, I know that. I’m still trying to figure out the way I lose weight. Apparently, it is slowly, and in immeasurable amounts as I can’t tell from the scale or the tape measure, but my clothes don’t lie-they are looser every day.
Right now, I’m just relishing the saggy seats of my pants, the baggy legs around my thighs, the way my shirts no longer cling to my gut. “Soon, so very soon!” I croon to the totes of clothes. My current wardrobe will be finding its way to Goodwill, and by the time I move this summer, I will be wearing a “new” wardrobe of my old clothes.