Are you sick of my photos yet??
Yesterday I was feeling a little blah, and so Kurt decided what I needed was some new clothes. I was really surprised by this, but he’s completely right. All the clothes that fit me now are leftovers from when I was pregnant with Gracie. I’m not a terribly fashionable person, so it doesn’t matter to me that these clothes aren’t the height of fashion for May 2008. But I got them from consignment and thrift stores to begin with, and since they were really the only clothes I could wear (and hence got lots of use), I feel they look more frumpy than what I prefer to wear.
I’m also a size smaller than I was when I was pregnant with Grace, so most of my old clothes are pretty baggy on me.
We headed up to the mall in Warwick to check out possible clothes. I tend not to buy clothes from the mall; I usually prefer Target and even Wal-Mart for clothes I won’t be wearing for very long. However, our Wal-Mart has just one tiny rack of maternity clothes, and both of the Targets near my house are so small that the only maternity clothes they carry are the ones by a designer. I would really prefer to pay less than $20 for a freakin’ t-shirt, thanks. Old Navy is usually an option as well, but there’s only one or two that carry maternity clothes in my area. Plus I always get depressed going into our Old Navy stores. They’re always completely trashed, and the signage is always rather misleading. There will be a sign that reads “2 for $15” or what-have-you, but it’s only for one particular color or style on that shelf, and you have to dig through everything else on the shelf to find the exact style that is on sale.
But on our way, I snapped a wonderfully beautiful photo with my little point-and-shoot camera through the dirty, dirty windshield of the minivan as we crossed over the Pell Bridge between Aquidneck and Conanicut Islands. I didn’t think it would come out well, but Kurt encouraged me to at least try.
So try I did, and here is the result:
I guess there’s a benefit to listening to your husband once in a while.
I managed to find some cute things at the Motherhood Maternity inside Macy’s. Some of their stuff is really expensive!! Gahhh!! There was one really cute t-shirt with ruching up both side seams, and in a lovely turquoise which would look gorgeous against my red hair. But $25 for a shirt?? Yeeesh.
I got four shirts, a pair of Bermuda shorts (which, of course, look like pedal-pushers on my short, short legs), and a dress for just over $100. Thank you, Rhode Island, for not charging sales tax on “necessities” such as clothing and shoes. That saved me $7.50 right there.
I also realized, while trying on a plethora (neener!) of clothing, that I really do look pregnant. I guess I don’t really see it since I am still rather chubby in my belly from before my pregnancy, and when I sit down, the chubbiness sort of melts away. When I stand upright, especially after I’ve eaten, my belly actually sticks out farther than my bosom — and that’s saying something! Some of the shirts I tried really accentuated my belly. It’s really the first time I’ve looked into the mirror and said to myself, “Holy cow, you are pregnant!!”
But then there was the lady I was chatting to today, and when I mentioned to her I was pregnant, she said, “Oh, you are?!?” Wow, that did not boost my confidence. In her defense, she says she never assumes anymore after assuming incorrectly that someone was pregnant while she was at a job interview. Apparently it didn’t end well.
Now I have a dress for a couple of family reunions coming up, as well as a nice pair of shorts I can wear with a nice shirt. I bought a button-down as well so I look a bit more dressy than my normal “t-shirt and denim capris” look I usually sport in the summer. My in-laws are coming to visit next month, and my mother-in-law always wears slacks and a nice shirt, so I just want to look a little nicer when we’re together.
Kurt’s been bugging me as to what I want for Mother’s Day this Sunday, and I told him, “Look, why don’t we count this shopping spree as my gift?” That works for him, since he usually has a hard time figuring out what he wants to get me. Hopefully he’ll still cook me dinner on Sunday; if he does, I’ll be a pretty lucky girl!