Yesterday, I went through my closet and 'boxed up' my regular clothes that no longer fit and will not for many months. (And by 'boxed up' I mean put in Lora's closet [sorry Lora!]). And there were a lot of them . . .
The good news is that we did some shopping to supplement the clothes I lost. Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly close to what was put away.
Ugh - I am only telling half of the story - as Mitchell will remind me. The mess began on Friday night, an hour before our dinner reservation at The Montage in Cedar Falls - a favorite restaurant of ours. Dressing is typically an issue for me - I blame my scientific nature - full of 'I don't have anything to wear's, 'What do you wear with this?'s, 'Nothing looks good's, and even a few stomps and possibly a tantrum or two. Friday night was no different, except for the addition of some fabulous pregnancy hormones and the realization that I, actually, had very few clothes that fit. They were either uncomfortably tight, or just unflattering (at least to me - Mitchell said many of them were 'fine' but I think he was just hungry). At 6:45 we ended up pushing back our reservation thirty minutes. Forty minutes later, with a bed strewn with tried-on clothes, we left, still five minutes late for our reservation, but dressed.
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