The intersection of nesting, staving off the panic of adding another person to my life, and the whole rid you life of what you don't need-ness that seems to go with the current zeitgeist has led me to my closet. I would desperately like to weed through my closet, pitching items willy-nilly. One would think it would be easy with the overflowing nature of it. However, I am stymied.
Shortly after we moved to Virginia (4 years or so ago) I noticed that I was rapidly gaining weight. I finally convinced my doctor that even a lifestyle change and move couldn't explain 20 pounds in less than 6 months. We established that I had a thyroid problem and, once properly medicated, the 20 pounds melted off. However, there was this whole period of time that I was suddenly 2 sizes larger than I had been.
As I was settling back into my normal weight, we took a trip to Hawaii. While I can understand why Hawaii is generally considered a paradise, we managed to go during a fluke hot spell in August. They don't have a/c in a lot of Hawaii because it's usually temperate and lovely but we spent most of the time being really hot. One might wonder why we didn't just hang out by the pool or go snorkeling. These foolish souls have not been properly indoctrinated to travel according to my husband. Guidebooks are poured over. Map are analyzed. Lists are made. Every point of interest will be seen and pictures taken or it just hasn't been a vacation, damn it! This meant that I spent 2 weeks mildly dehydrated and too hot to eat. 3 weeks after our return from Hawaii we left for Egypt. This caused stress and even less eating. We spent 2 months living in a dorm in Egypt and learned that cafeteria food the world over is cafeteria food. All of this led to more weight loss. In addition, since we were traveling a Muslim country, I needed to acquire clothing that allowed me to not offend the locals. My biggest goal during our visit to Egypt was to not get arrested.
Over the last 2 years I have been pregnant and/or lactating, necessitating all manner of additional clothing as well as blending in clothing from previous weight incarnations. Amazingly, at no point do any of my pants seem to properly fit. Maternity pants manage to go from a little loose/ please stay up to a bit snug/ please don't ride down in the blink of an eye. The post-partum belly is apparently not designed to actually fit anything for at least 3 months except, maybe, those maternity pants that never actually fit while you were pregnant. Your body finally wanders back to pre-baby weight but none of the weight is where it used to be so where you used to be snug you are now loose and where previously loose, you now resemble a woman of questionable virtue. I spend vast portions of my day hitching up, adjusting, and rolling cuffs (because, of course, petite women don't get pregnant).
Someday I will be done gestating, lactating, going on inadvertent deprivation diets, or having my body just go into a complete rebellion and my pants will actually fit and my closet will comfortably hold all of my clothing.
I can't wait.
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