momjeans

The worst part about Monday is putting on dress pants after a weekend full of comfortable clothes.

If you see what I wear to work, you are laughing right now because my definition of dress pants and the rest of the world's definition of dress pants are two different things. Right now I'm wearing $29 Old Navy khakis that are cut like your favorite pair of $129 jeans. They are seriously way more comfortable than sweatpants. I have a couple other pairs of winter work pants that are equally fabulous but they are a bit too long so I have to wear something with a heel and that presents a whole nother set of issues.

Despite rolling around with the filth -er- salt of the earth all day, we aren't allowed to wear jeans to work.

Bedazzled low rise khakis embellished with butterflies: yes

Mini skirts: yes

Stretch pants: yes

Tailored denim slacks: no

Pants are always such a problem for me. It's always a shock when I have to put away all my favorite summer bottoms (read: three pairs of knee length shorts and one pair of breezy work pants) and trade them in for wintertime wear. I'm stuck in that weird limbo between flipflops and boots, linen and wool. It's so hard on a girl like me. I just don't know how to stay appropriate and comfortable all at the same time. And if I'm not comfortable, you won't be comfortable. I guarantee it.

I have a pair of sweatpants. One. I hate them. They aren't comfortable at all, the waist is so low that it cuts into the center of my butt and makes me feel like I'm 700 pounds and I'm tugging at them all the time. Stupid American Apparel and your clothes made for Anorexic Asian She-hes. I should just throw them out but they are my only warm sleep pants. Well, I do have a pair of pajama bottoms. They are wonderful, but they are for summer and they are useless against this Arctic Front that is slamming the mid-Atlantic coast this week (read: it's 50 degrees outside but I'm not ready for it).

I have two pairs of jeans but I'm something like three pounds over fighting weight lately and for some reason, three pounds after you've had a baby is nothing like three pounds before you've had a baby. Three pounds after you've had a baby causes your stomach to stick out further than it did at five months pregnant. It's disgusting and unfair and makes my jeans uncomfortable and I have to hike the front part up over my gut so it doesn't roll over itself and collect crumbs because the grossest thing in the world is crumbs on a belly.

I also have a pair of camouflage cargo pants. But I'm 32 years old and should stop it already with the camouflage cargo pants.

So what do I do? What is a 32 year old girl supposed to wear after work and on the weekends? How is a girl like me supposed to get comfortable yet remain in an acceptable state to leave the house? What do you wear? Have you given in to buying the high-waisted, full-cut jeans at JCPenney's? Stretch denim at Sears? Are you cheating and still wearing your maternity pants? Because I kind of want to go and buy a pair. Just one pair. They were so delicious.

I could give into the urge to buy one of those J-Lo fatgirl sweatsuit things that all my neighbors are wearing. But then I'd be wearing one of those J-Lo fatgirl sweatsuit things and breaking my cardinal rule against leaving the house without beltloops. Under no circumstance should you leave the house in pants that do not have beltloops.

Plus, I'm complaining about three pounds? Elastic waistbands make it possible to eat and eat and eat without realizing that your stomach is resting on your knees. I don't want that. I only have a few more years of potential cuteness, and I don't want it to go to hell yet. I should just stick with the uncomfortable jeans for a little while and let them dig into my gut until I stop eating entire pints of ice cream and bags of Chips Ahoy and boxes of Nature Valley and maybe grow up a little bit and realize that my own personal level of comfort isn't the most important thing in the world so I should just suck it up and stop bitching.

This is my biggest problem today, by the way. Isn't that refreshing? Nothing is bothering me more.