A Southern Fried Mess

Insanity is a southern necessity…

Miracles Do Happen Y’know

I was cleaning out my closet the other day, packing up stuff in a box for Goodwill, when I happened to stumble across my little black dress. For those of you who don’t know, every woman has one of these ‘reminders’ hanging somewhere in the dark recesses of her closet. Mine hasn’t seen the light of day since before the birth of my first child–eons ago.

As I pulled it into the light, memories of days gone by flooded my brain, overwhelming my common sense. A wicked grin crossed my face and I dropped the arm full of old shirts I was holding to the floor. I was gonna try it on—for old time’s sake.

All was going well until It came time to zip it up. No matter how hard I tired or how much I sucked in my stomach and didn’t breath, the zipper would only budge a few inches. Round and round I spun in a circle like a crazy woman with one arm flung over my shoulder in a dance of desperation.

Finally, I gave up and sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror. With the tiny spaghetti straps hanging limp on my shoulders, reality sank in. I would never fit back into that dress–my thighs and new stomach size would never allow it no matter how much I worked out. That time, that era , of my life was over and now mommy-hood was the new supreme leader.

About this time my four year old daughter walked into the closet to see what I was doing.

“What’cha doing?”


” ‘membering what?”

” Things like how mommy used to fit into this dress. It’s too small now…”

“Don’t worry. Maybe when the dress grows up and gets bigger, you can fit in it then.”

And as the comment lingered in the air, she left the closet. I looked at myself once more in the mirror and couldn’t decide if I should laugh or cry.

April 4, 2008 - Posted by | family, fitness, kids, life, Uncategorized | , , ,

1 Comment »

  1. Three weeks ago, I abandoned the thought of getting back into any of my pants that were 30″ in the waist. Those pants just kept staring at me. When I got out of the Army I was at 29″, 14 years later 31″-32″.

    Don’t let it bother you.

    Bother me? BOTHER ME?!!!
    Maybe if I close my eyes, click my heals together three times and say ‘it can grow, it can grow’ and believe really, really hard like a four year old, it will come true!
    Ha, ha! You’re not buying it either, are you…. Oh, well. I guess I’ll just use it( the dress) as an incentive to get back into shape. Something to aim for…

    Comment by morethananelectrician | April 4, 2008 | Reply

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