Today I turned the air on.
Which pissed Andy off because it’s, like, 68 degrees here today.
But, I didn’t care, I needed the bedroom to be cold. I was trying on jeans.
And, that is way easier to do when I am not all sweaty and sticky.
Because nothing can make or break my self esteem more than a pair of jeans.
After I had Wyatt, carrying the weight of two back to back pregnancies, I wore a size 20.
I couldn’t shop at The Gap. I cut the tags out of all my pants so Andy couldn’t see them, you know, on the off chance he would start folding the laundry and be all, OMG why do we have Chris Farley’s pants here?!
When I would buy jeans, I would ask for a gift receipt, so the cashier wouldn’t know they were for me.
It was hard to hate my body after the hell I had just put it through.
But, I cried every time I had to button my pants.
So, I starved myself, and popped Adipex pills like they were candy.
I was jittery.
My heart physically hurt.
My mouth was a dessert.
I spent my days feeling like I was drugged out on Peyote.
But, I lost 68 pounds.
Size 12 jeans.
Totally worth it.
And now, post Gigi, I find myself, once again, battling my pants.
Not the stretchy ones.
Those are fine.
The other ones.
The skinny ones. The boyfriend ones. The low rise ones.
How do real people, people who are not a 14 year old Jonas brother, wear these pants, and, like….do stuff?
Like, sit down, or bend over, or eat KFC indian style on the kitchen floor because you had a bad day and your husband hung up on you when you called him repeatedly to see if it was ok to use his electric shaver on your bikini line, which was actually a moot point, because you already did it before asking, and now you are paranoid because he said no, and you are totally convinced it smells like vagina, so you keep spraying it with Country Apple Body Splash from Bath and Body Works and OMG IT”S NOT WORKING NOW IT SMELLS LIKE APPLEY VAGINAS!
So, today, in my 50 degree bedroom, I tried on jeans.
With the Kardashians turned up loud to drown out the grunting, and no underwear because panty lines make me feel fatter.
But, then I got totally paranoid again, so three of the pairs I am returning smell like Appley Vaginas.
Which, in my opinion, is fucking adorable.