There's Only 2 Ways Out Of Here

2 ways.

Sweating or Crying.

I’m looking for new jeans. I can’t get out during the day w/o my crew, and I’m left no choice but to head out on my search with all 5 in tow. This isn’t going to be pretty.

I know it’s going to be hard. But what else am I supposed to do…if I wait till after bedtime and after the mall closes, my options are limited.

Let’s talk for a minute. Jeans are a big deal – they can’t just be any jeans, they have to be the jeans. And what jeans are most popular right now? Ah, yes, the Skinny Jeans. Listen, I love to be in fashion, I’ve bought the knee high boots, I had set my goals high - but is it fair to ask a woman who has had 5 kids in 4 years to wear skinny jeans? My hips have been forever changed, people.

Knowing all this, I knew that this would be a unique jean experience. In this case, I would really need the perfect jean.

The fitting room. With 5 kids. Should not be allowed.

In fact, at the entrance to every fitting room there should be a counselor, a therapist of some sort. Someone to say, “You know, are those the best fit for your body? Is this a move in the right direction? Do you really feel that taking 5 kids in is the best thing? Is it beneficial for your overall emotional health? Let’s talk about your feelings.” I tell you, friends, I would spend a lot less time in fitting rooms if there was help like that.

So I enter with my crew. Babies are throwing food from the trays, and the older girls are asking what the numbers on the tags mean. Oh mercy - sweet mercy, please stop screaming what that number is…give mama a break…or a stiff drink…either one will do at this point – I think the Lord would understand. It's not really that I'm embarrassed, because I am made just like God wanted me - thankyouverymuch, but is it to much to aske for just a tiny bit of privacy??

I try them on, I'm under the 800 degree lamps they got hanging in there, and I'm smashed up against the mirror – because it’s a tight fit with 6 of us in there. Now I’m staring at my imperfections in close up view...good times.

They fit, I mean, I guess they do…as far as I could see standing only 3 inches from the mirror. Whether they look good or not is a whole 'nother post. I get dressed, sweep the cheerios to the side (don’t pretend you don’t), and try to figure out how to get us all out. I always imagine the door busting open and all of us falling out. That hasn’t happened yet.

I leave the fitting room only sweating, thanks to the intense lighting, and the fact that I have been pleading with my girls to just stand still for one stinkin' minute. Sweating is better than crying, right?

Do you shop with all your kids?