OMG. My freaking clothes are starting to rebel, and I have only gained 3 pounds. (Well, as of Friday. I am not going to weigh myself at the gym in a little while because Ben and I had the mist delicious Indian takeout last night, and it was soooo salty. I think I have guzzled 2 gallons of water today).
Today, struggling into my favorite (former favorite, the bastards) skinny jeans, I RIPPED a HUGE HOLE in them while squeezing my hips together so I could zip the fly. Last week, I realized that my favorite skinny cords have a broken zipper (although I do not think that was my fat's fault. I am blaming an aggressive washing machine (shut up). I have a pair of "ankle" length skinnies that are suddenly too tight in the freaking CALVES, and my favorite boyfriend jeans give me big time muffin top. That means I am down to some black skinny jeans, some cream skinny jeans, a really old pair of Gap skinny jeans that have faded to a decidedly mom color, some missing Old Navy skinny jeans that I bet would fit awesome IF I COULD FIND THEM, some high-waisted H&M acid washed jeans that look dumb, trouser jeans that I can only wear with heels, and some super low-rise Gap jeans from back in the day when that was cool that accommodate my beer belly (or "wine bottle belly" as Harry bafflingly calls it). Oh! And a lone pair of plain old jeans from Old Navy that I love for their vanity sizing and the fact that they still fit me and are not skinnies. None of these options is terribly okay for work, but since all of my high waisted skirts and pencil skirts are out, casual is in, I guess.
I so do not want to buy bigger clothes because everyone tells me I will never bounce back from #3 (thanks a lot EVERYONE), and if I have a closet full of fat pants, this will probably be true. I am praying the snow magically melts, and I can wear dresses and ballet flats for the next 5 weeks when I will be pregnant enough for maternity clothes.
SPeaking of! Holy crap! Ben and I were done having kids, so I GOT RID OF THEM ALL. Except for like 3 winer shirts, a maternity suit (blech), a formal dress (sooooo practical) and a couple pairs of sad, saggy jeans. WHAT WAS I THINKING?
As you can see, I have no belly yet, so the whole clothes-don't-fit thing is likely the result of EATING LIKE A CRAZED GIANT.