Maternity Skinny Jeans: An Oxymoron

As a lover of fall- I am so happy with the recent trend of long (read: covering the hiney) cardigans, tunics, and baggy sweaters, paired with leggings or skinny jeans and boots. (English teacher friends: I am almost sure I just committed several punctuation crimes. Forgive me.)

From time to time I enjoy shopping and cruising pinterest for what the young folks are wearing, even though I am usually wearing a mom-i-form that is closer to yoga pants and t-shirts from high school. I am not super stylish, but I think I have occasional cute days with my limited resources and budget.

It is late August and I am due to have my last ever baby in December. Here in Oklahoma the only thing certain about our weather is its unpredictability. But I am hopeful that it will eventually cool off enough for me to want to wear my fall staple of skinny jeans and boots. So I purchased a pair of dark indigo maternity skinny jeans and black leggings online.

I was so excited to try them both on when they came in yesterday. I tried on the super soft, full panel, black leggings first and instantly declared them my new favorite pants. Soft, comfy, perfect with long tees and a jacket. Good to dress up for and evening out, or to kick around the house in. In short, I was in love. Pregnancy perfection. Naturally I was excited to proceed to my skinny jeans which were sure to be a hit.

Note: I own several other pairs of jeans, pants, and skinny jeans that are the same brand and size. They fit just fine. No problem.

I put on the jeans and attempted to pull them up. Attempted. They got stuck on my pregnant ham-hock thighs. Allegedly they were stretchy, but I found them not to budge at all. The top of the pants stopped somewhere around my hiney crack. They were so freakishly tight. So I made the choice to do whatever any self respecting woman would do. I pulled up the navy, stretchy, belly covering material and went to the kitchen to show my husband.

This is mean, but sometimes it is fun to wear something that you know is heinous to watch the man you love writhe uncomfortably as he tries not to say anything stupid. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Honey, do you like my new jeans?

Ryland: (Eyes huge, fear covering his face.) Those are cute.

Me: Are you serious? These are so tight that I look like someone who belongs in a "people of Wal-Mart" picture. I'm returning them.

Ryland: Ok. Thank goodness!

Y'all, they were an abomination. Skin tight with a major muffin top. Bad. Blech. Vom. Whatever you are imagining, it was worse.

Then I danced in them. It was a twerking/booty dance hybrid, except pregnant, and not sexy. My people laughed and then I crisco'd myself down enough to peel off the jeans so that I could breathe deeply again. Sweet freedom.

I will be returning them post-haste.

I told my sweet husband that I was planning to blog about this unfortunate experience, to which he timidly replied, "I don't really know how to say this, but, you aren't going to post a picture are you?".

"I'm too vain for that." I said. He exhaled, clearly relieved. And I threatened to punch him if he ever spoke of "the jeans" ever again.

Why couldn't I have been pregnant when gaucho pants were in style? Stretchy, loose, glorious, perfect for achieving a non-muffin-top style. Please ladies, for the love of future preggos everywhere, let's bring back the gauchos.

Maternity Skinny Jeans. Oxymoron.

What I Needed Most

The last 2 days have been sad. Some of the hardest minutes and hours that I've dealt with in awhile. I miss Lexus. I miss the noises that she made. I miss her bossy bark. I  miss the way she'd pace around the dog food bowls looking for left overs often prompting Sadie, my slow eater to growl at her. I miss the adoring way she looked at me. I miss touching her. There's a hole and I have spilled many tears, especially as I watch my kids and dogs notice her absence.

But at the kid's bedtime, after Hope and her Daddy bumped heads during the neck "snark" portion of the bedtime routine, I crawled into a tiny toddler bed with my crying 2-year-old. She rested her on my chest and I rubbed her back until she started to snore. I smelled her hair and thought about how small she is and how quickly she's growing. She'll be three in just 2 months, a big sister in four. And almost on cue Eden started to kick the big sister who was unknowingly squishing her.

And then the tears came, followed by gratitude. Even in the midst of grief, I have so much to be thankful for. I am so thankful for that moment, in this fleeting season. Thankful for the interaction between my daughters who were completely unaware. I love that I was the only one who knew. It was like a sweet secret. All too soon Hope will outgrow her tiny toddler bed and sleeping on her Mom, and all too soon my season of childbearing will come to an end and I'll never again feel the indescribable miracle of feeling your child from the inside. It was a sacred moment that I don't ever want to forget. My two girls, such gifts, so much love.

And in that moment, that little snippet of time, I know that what I needed most was to be reminded of my blessings, my home, my daughters. And while the waves of grief and guilt come, I pray that I find only gratitude. I pray that I remember that I am motivated by and surrounded with love. And that I have been given more than I deserve.

I still miss my Lex, and I anticipate more hard days to come, but I am thankful that God always provides what I need most, moment to moment, day by day. I am thankful.

A Tribute to My Friend

Lexus came into my house for the first time in a tiny dog carrier about a week after being spayed in the late spring of 2007. She was to be my foster dog.  She had just left a 12 week old litter of puppies and had a fear of everything. She also had a painful and chronic foot condition caused by grass awns. I reached into her crate to pet her and she flinched. When she finally came out she immediately had an accident on the floor only to quickly retreat back into the safety of her crate. She came to us through Lucky Star Cavalier Rescue who purchased her at a puppy mill auction in Missouri. I was dealing with the heartbreak of two miscarriages a few months earlier and fostering Lexus was to be my summer project, my distraction from the grief.

She was hot natured and loved a good vent.

It took Lexus a few days to feel safe enough to venture outside of her crate to do more than eat or potty, and it took her a few weeks to trust me enough to approach me for petting, months for Ryland, and years for strangers. I'd hold her everyday and pet her, showing her that despite the abuse she'd known in her former life, that people can be kind. Rehabilitating her was therapy for me too. Watching her progress thrilled me. And in some way helped me deal with my grief.

The time came for us to say goodbye to Lexus as we found a forever home for her. She was adopted by my veterinarian and his wife. I was relieved that she'd be going to live with a kind person who would always be able to care for her. I had grown attached to her and cried for a week after giving her away. I kind of felt like she had become mine. And that I was her person.

Always such a pretty girl.

After 6 weeks I took my 2 dogs in for a routine vet visit and in the course of the visit my vet tearfully told me how Lexus had failed to bond with he and his wife, she'd tried to escape, and had been very destructive. He said he felt terribly guilty and wanted to return her to the rescue organization for re-homing. I did a happy dance and bullied my husband into letting us keep her. She was mine and I couldn't bear to let go of her again.

I arranged to pick her up the next day, and when she saw me, I swear she smiled. There was tail wagging, happy noises, and dog-joy like I'd never seen before. She sat in my lap, tongue-out, head out the window as I took her HOME.

Younger and healthy.

Time passed and we made great memories:

* the time she tree'd a squirrel and nearly caught it- she was so proud!

* the way she'd collect all her dog toys and put them in her bed like puppies

* her chronic need to over-eat

* her Houdini like escape abilities

* her first time to see Isaac, she'd sniff his baby hiney and alert us to his dirty diapers, she also hated to hear him cry

* the way she never got aggressive or even attempted to bite- she was the most gentle dog I've ever known

* the way Hope talked to her in her "dog" voice

* the time a nest of baby bunnies fell victim to her even though she was already hard of hearing and vision. Traumatic for us- victory for her.

* the way she snored loud enough to rattle the walls

Those are the things that I'll keep in my heart as I face today and the days after without my dog.

Spot the real puppies.

For months I've been worried about her. Her body has been in decline. Between the episodes of grass awns, a heart murmur, and her hips that don't really function due to birthing too many pups too young, she doesn't have the joy and vigor that she once did. She has become increasingly dependent on me to move her from room to room and her separation anxiety is heart wrenching- she'll cry for me even though I'm only a room away. With her heart condition she is not a candidate for surgery and even if she was it would only prolong a life that no longer has much quality. She is confined only to the carpeted areas of our home which are small and not often close enough to me for her comfort. After reading about my friend Mandy's decision to let go of her Macy (http://soonerstospartans.blogspot.com/?m=1) , talking with my friend who is a vet, and hearing the relief in the voice of my mom when I told her my decision, I realized that the kindest thing I can do is to let go of Lexus.

I cannot medically do anymore to help her, and as I get more pregnant and soon wrapped in the demands of a newborn, I cannot give her relief from pain or enough of me to keep her happy. I firmly believe Lexus would go on for much longer for me. She loves me more than any other person or thing on earth. To her I am perfect and flawless- I am and always have been her person. So today as I say goodbye I am thankful. Thankful that she helped me in the darkest season of my life. Thankful that she endured the "love" inflicted on her by two toddlers. Thankful for her meekness, gentle demeanor, and the joy she received simply from sitting at my feet.

Resting with Isaac.

So I held her and kissed her head as she peacefully went to sleep this morning. My heart aches but I take comfort in knowing that her body is at rest. She'll never know pain again, and it's been a long time since she hasn't known pain.

Last nap in my lap.

Farewell my sweet friend. If lap dogs are allowed in heaven then I hope you'll wait by the fireplace in my house there. Goodness knows that you were a dog who'd deserve it.  You were very loved and will be greatly, greatly missed.