Of size and jeans

All throughout my formative years, I can always remember my mother insisting she wore a size 8.  If it wasn't a size 8, it really wasn't considered as a clothing option for her.  SIZE 8 FOREVER.  My sister, mother, and myself all were slim women when all was said and done.  Our body shapes differed, but the mass and volume was about the same.

I've been on a quest for jeans that fit me for a while now since I've put holes in a few pair in recent months.  I usually would find jeans in resale or thrift shops and that suited me fine for a while.  But no pair was perfect.  One pair would fit in the waist, but not the thighs.  Or yet another would be fine lengthwise, but the crotch would be riding up uncomfortably high.  I settled on a pair or two from Aeropostale from a resale shop.

But they were a size 0.

Size 0??

In high school, I was a 6.  In college I was a 4.  Then 2.  Now I'm a 0.  My age is increasing, but my waistline is like a countdown to a shuttle launch.  Now, I'm no Twiggy, but I'm slim.  I have no caboose and my hipbones protrude.  But there are women out there slimmer than me with no curvature.  What size are they?

Are women really that vain that they care so much about the number on their tag more than they do the fact that the clothes actually fit?  I really don't care about the label.  I care that my pants fit, don't drag on the floor, don't show my ass crack, and make me feel as good as possible while wearing them.  If the tag says 8, then fine.  If it says 10, then fine.  But I wish manufacturers were held to a standard like shoes or bras.  Sure - there'll be variants from retailer to retailer, but at least I know what general size I am or should be.

Back to being a size 8.  My mom has lost weight (probably due to her mild anorexia, but that's a whole other novel in and of itself).  She needed new pants.  Badly.  So I bought her some pants that looked about right.  Guess what size?  0.  She took one look at the tag and said, "There's no way I'll fit in those!"  Lo, and behold - they fit her.  Of course she won't wear them because for some sick reason she likes wearing baggy ill-fitting clothes.  She seems to think that martyring herself by wearing clothes that don't fit, all while sighing, "I went so many years without buying clothes for myself so you and your sister could wear new clothes..."  Right.  then why do I remember size 8 so vividly?

I hope that retailers don't eventually go overboard on the vanity sizing.  We'll all be some variant of size 0.  Or 0 to the negative power.

Love and the domestically minded mother.

Recently, I spent time with a mom friend of mine.  Like me, she has two adorable babies.  We get together frequently because our girls play well together, and we have similar personalities, interests, and, most importantly, senses of humor.  Since her youngest daughter has been born with some health concerns, her world has been re-arranged into a series of surgeries, doctor visits, after-care, and worry.  She is a supremely strong mama, and she is way stronger than she realizes.  On this visit she mentioned that she had a case of the “fuckits”.  If you’ve never had a case of the fuckits – it’s best cured with wine. Anyhow, her domestic upkeeping had gotten a bit behind, and while I was over for a play date today, I just went to her kitchen, and began doing dishes.  There was no, “What can I do to help?”  I just did.  When faced with hard times, I’ve learned that vague offers for help are usually met with, “I’m fine, really.”  When deep down, you’re screaming for help but just can’t articulate your needs because sometimes, there’s just so much on your plate, you don’t know what to start with. 

I asked her if she had read The Five Love Languages.  She hadn’t, so I said that this is my love language.  I do things.  Acts of service.  I enjoy doing dishes and cleaning.  I get into a ‘zone’ and I really enjoy the finished product.  Papa B often works nights and I usually spend the evening cleaning up the house.  I feel that, as part of my stay-at-home mom duties, keeping a clean house is part of my job description.  This friend mentioned that my house is intimidatingly clean.  I never mean to use my domestic inclinations to intimidate other mothers.  I told her I realize that my way of running my house is not for everyone, and some nights, I myself get a case of the fuckits and I sit on my ass and play Candy Crush (or writing blog posts) until it’s time to go to bed.  I’m not ashamed to have someone see my house when the littles have torn apart all the toys, bits of leftover dinner riddle the dining room floor and table, or a certain little someone has left piles of clothes and underpants all over the house.  I just wanted her to know that I care about her, and I showed her in a way I knew how and by what looked available to me. 

I certainly hope that my act of love was met with a sincere appreciation of my act, and not as mocking that I can keep my house clean and yours too.  I read this article when I came home from her house.  It really resonated with me.  

Not to sound full of myself, but do I really intimidate people with my put-togetherness?  On more than one occasion, I’ve had women comment to me about remarks their husbands have made to them about me being on the ball or more sympathetic to the male perspective of domestic situations.  I am who I am, and I don’t put on airs to impress people or put others down.  

Pros/con's

Pros of having another baby:

I make really, really cute humans
I have some awesome names
I love babies.
I want another one
We already have a minivan
We have the bedroom space

Cons to having another baby:

We'd be outnumbered
Financial setbacks
Delay me going back to work or school by another 3 years or so
What if it's twins?
We'd lose our spare bedroom
I've been getting rid of baby clothes
We already have a boy and a girl - zero population growth (pro?)
The current baby is still not sleeping through the night

Even farther away.

It seems lately that the county in which we live is hell bent on screwing us over.  Firstly, they have proposed budget cuts that will affect Papa B's job.  He'll likely have one if the measure passes, but he may be making less than he is now.  Also in the proposed cut is to close the elementary school that the Cees are set to attend.  It's a small school, but not under enrolled. We are fighting hard to save it, and it comes down to whether or not the school board can be persuaded to cut the budget elsewhere and it's not financially feasible to close one school.  In addition to that, our county is considering using its power of eminent domain to seize a neighboring property to build a larger fire station to keep up with the rapid growth in our town.  Growth that is slowly encroaching on us like a rising flood.

We have property in a neighboring state that has two homes on the property.  Right now, we are fixing up the larger home to rent out to generate income, and slowly fixing up the smaller home to use as a summer/winter getaway.  We have long considered what would spur us to move out there (4.5 hours from where we currently are).  I told Papa B that I would move there under two conditions.  One, I want city water at the house.  As it is now, the small cabin has no running water, but that is part of the fixing up.  The well is rusty and not my preferred water source.  Thankfully, a city water pumping station is a few hundred yards away.  Two, is I want Internet.  If I am to move half a day's drive from my family and friends, then I want reliable means to contact them.

But I asked myself on our most recent trip if I would be HAPPY out there.  The property is, at best, a 30 minute drive to a town.  And it's not a thriving metropolis.  It's a little town that boasts a Wal-Mart, Tractor Supply, and a large bridge.  That's about it.  If you want more civilization, then another half hour's drive is necessary.  This part of the country is poor.  Poor and rural.  Would I be out of place here?  Yes.  Very much so.  Would my son get a Mt. Dew addition?  Probably.  Would I be seen as 'uppity', because I want my children to educate themselves to their highest potential?  Absolutely.  Would our family be targets for theft because we would be considered 'rich' and have nicer things?  Perhaps.  It's things like that that give me pause about moving out there.  But, for me, is how isolated I'd feel.  I'd feel intellectually isolated.  I'd feel socially isolated, since I think I'd have difficulty finding women who I can talk to that would stimulate me intellectually.  Women who have had education, jobs, and been on a similar path that I've been on.

If there is a move in the works, it would be until the youngest C is out of elementary school.  We feel that their best opportunity educationally is here (in spite of the whole school closing possibility).  But it is in the back of our minds, and is yet to be decided.

Don't piss me off. I have a plan.

I swear, I'm not a sociopath.  But I spend way too much of my brainticular efforts on whether or not I could successfully get away with killing someone.  Who I'd pick (someone I have no connection to, so friends and family are safe :-) ), how I'd do it (not sure) and where I'd hide the body. 

Every time I pass a good looking wooded hillside, I consider its suitability for body dumping.  How late at night is the optimal body dumping hour?  Do I use my own car? 

Anyhow.  Am I the only one who has these scenarios rolling around in their head? 

Unprofound post of the day

You know, sometimes in the morning I weigh myself before and after I poop. Because, you know, science.

One step closer to family cloth.

If you haven't yet been enlightened as to what family cloth is - let me be the first to tell you. 


Family cloth is not using toilet paper, but instead using scrap bits of cloth (or fancy schmancy specialized wipes) that are washed, dried, and reused. 


Since I cloth diaper, I am not unfamiliar with this concept.  Boy C's butt is wiped with wipes that previously wiped Girl C's butt.  And, I was gifted some used wipes from a friend, so another unrelated butt has been wiped with them before they wiped my kid's butt. 


I will admit, I do love a good moist wipe now and again after a good sit down, ya know?  And the fact that I already have tons of wipes in my possession makes it even more tempting. And I'd never have to worry about buying toilet paper ever again!  EVER!  But then I stop and think about when we have guests over and I think a few of them would object to this concept.  And when I say 'few' I probably mean 'all'.


So, at a play date today one mom commented that she has to buy toilet paper today since they are subsisting on napkins.  Well - not to be outdone, I told her that about 2 weeks ago, the bathroom upstairs (which gets little use) ran out of toilet paper.  Girl C has used that toilet numerous times and since there was no toilet paper, I just handed her a washcloth.  And here's where is just gets downright gross - I didn't bother to swap out the washcloth. 


I KNOW, I KNOW.


So, today, I did what I had to do and I put two rolls of TP in the bathroom and took the washcloth downstairs to be washed.  So, don't call CPS on me for neglecting to give my child toilet paper.