There are no comfortable pants on the planet. Not a single pair. I am destined to be miserable and/or naked for the next 7 months.
Mind you, I haven’t exactly looked for comfortable pants, unless you count inside my closet as I was having a dress-pants-related meltdown before work this morning. Eventually, the only “solution” to my problem (that I could see through my hormonal fog) was to take a pair of scissors and hack at one of my waistbands. And you know what? Despite my ruined pants, I am still sitting here tugging at my waist and wishing desperately for my flannel pajama bottoms. My problem solving skills are clearly less than stellar no matter what my resume says.
Why did everything have to get too tight the week of Christmas? Does the universe not understand that the mall is the last place on earth I need to be this week? I have two malls within lunch break distance of my office, and there are traffic cops directing miles of traffic outside of both of them right now. I’m not sure I could get close even if I wanted to.
I did try Old Navy last week. I waited in line for 30 minutes to purchase one pair of black maternity pants that are the world’s most effective lint magnet. If you noticed that your entire house became void of lint last week, you have me to thank. Your lint is now taking up residence on my black pants. Those things are awful. Even so, I would have worn them this morning out of sheer desperation, but we were away all weekend and they never got washed. Other than that, all Old Navy had to offer were light, breezy maxi skirts. Did Old Navy forget to send their maternity people the memo that IT IS WINTER? I’m sure I will be living in maxi skirts come spring/summer, but right now I just want to be warm and breeze-less, thankyouverymuch.
I also purchased a couple of maternity bands online, but they are too big for me.
If you’re keeping score, that means it’s Maternity Clothes 2, Molly 0. Maybe no one will notice if I wear sweatpants to Christmas dinner.