Thursday, December 12, 2013

On Not Wearing Real Pants....or a Bra.

Micah goes to a private Christian preschool and I dropped him off this morning without wearing a bra or Real Pants. 

Let's just all take a moment, shall we?

Ok, now that I have lost about half of my readers and the other slightly neurotic half is still around (love you!), allow me to explain.  It's not that I didn't wear pants at all, just that I didn't wear Real Pants.  As any mother of small children can explain to you in no uncertain terms, Real Pants can be defined as any pants that require fastening or zipping of some sort.  The exception to this definition is maternity pants that are pulled up and stretched out over that baby belly because I give mad props to any and all preggers who are even attempting to wear something that even resembles Real Pants.  And if you're one of those pregnant women who is able to wear Real Pants, as in with zippers and buttons and all, for the whole duration of your can I put this gently?  You are a glorious freak of nature.  I love you, you're beautiful, but genetically speaking you are quite the anomaly.  The rest of us ditch the Real Pants after the first time we have to jump up and down and/or lie down flat on the bed while cursing at the stupid zipper that refuses to budge because clearly it is the zipper's fault that the Real Pants are no longer working even though the stick only turned pink two weeks ago. 

No, I'm not pregnant.  But I do have a friend out there having a baby as I write this, so I kind of have baby on the brain.  You are not expected to wear Real Pants for a very long time, girlfriend.  

Real Pants also do NOT, I repeat......DO NOT include leggings or tights.  Because tights are not Pants.  No matter how many fashion bloggers wear them and post adorable photos of themselves rocking their leggings and ankle boots juxtaposed against a serene winter woods, they are still not Real Pants.  If there is any question about this issue, I would refer you to this helpful flow chart

I'm so glad we cleared that up.

Real Pants are not yoga pants, workout pants, pajama pants, or any pants with a cartoon character printed on them or writing on the butt.  I'm looking at you 14 year old girl who goes to school wearing skin tight fabric with the word "Juicy" proudly displayed across your derriere.  Seriously?  Not. Real. Pants. And anything with Tweety bird, the Tazmanian Devil, Hello Kitty, or Tinkerbell....not Real Pants.

Am I saying that it's unacceptable to wear anything other than Real Pants out into public?  Heck to the no.  If you've been paying attention, you will recall that I was rocking some definitely not-Real Pants this morning to school drop-off. 

Sometimes we just need to let it go, friends.  When we see the tired mama with the bags under her eyes and her pajama pants shoved roughly into her knock-off Ugg boots shuffling her children across the parking lot as the -10 wind chill swirls around her, let's agree she deserves a fist bump, a high five, perhaps even a kind word of encouragement.  Because I can promise you that that mom would much rather be wearing Real Pants, but on this particular day it just was not worth it. 

The having to get out of bed a few minutes earlier to pick out Real Pants and the Real Shirt to go with it.
The sucking in of the muffin top required to zip the Real Pants and the subsequent admonition to "really start working out again."
The spilling the blessed first sip of coffee on the Real Pants, prompting a stifled curse word and then a rush to find another pair of clean Real Pants that will also go with the Real Shirt you've already strategically chosen to hid the previously mentioned muffin top yet still keep you warm in this frigid excuse for weather we are currently enduring.
The minutes we are now running late, the coffee left un-enjoyed, the tempers now that much shorter.

Not.  Worth.  It.

So I wore the same pants I slept in, drawstring and all.  They billowed atop my grungy brown boots.  I tossed on a sweatshirt, zipped up my coat, blamed my hair on the wind and kissed my boy as he went off to school.  If I never took the coat off, who cares if I wasn't wearing a bra?

I promise to put on Real Pants for work tonight.  I might even shower, do my hair, and wear a bra. 

Cuz I'm fancy like that.

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