Baby's Got Back

What am I doing right now? Sitting in front of the computer, with piles of folded laundry stacked behind me, begging to be put away, an episode of The Biggest Loser in the hopper, begging to be watched, my dirty hair jammed under my Yankee cap, begging to be washed before Back to School Night, yet, I am writing. All of my big plans of using this time when the girls are at school and Little Man is napping to write? In the toilet. The kids, the house and all needs associated with the two, are like an unstable gas, needing constant monitoring lest they explode and expanding to fill any space (of time) they occupy. I don't know how it happens, but it seems I've just walked back in the house, thrown LM down for his nap and suddenly it's time to go get the girls and I have to shovel a few bites of a half-cooked Lean Cuisine down my throat on my way out the door.

So it seems logical, that as the seasons begin to change, and the weather gets colder, there has been no time for me to shop for fall clothes. While you might be thinking, "So damn what? Wear your pants from last year", it's not that simple. First of all, my "pants" from last year consist mainly of track and yoga pants, which I have made a pact not to wear in New Town unless actual athletic activity is going to take place in the next few hours, and running around my house looking for a missing ballet slipper ten minutes before class doesn't count. And stop your snickering, I'm actually sticking to it. I have been dressed in pants with actual buttons and zippers and not worn a baseball hat a single day since school started! Second, the pants I did manage to buy last year still did not fit the bill. I am talking about the Holy Grail. I am talking about the much maligned, but from-this-day-on-reclaimed-by-Mean-Mommy-term known as Mom Jeans. Yeah, I said it. MOM JEANS.

Stop shrieking. I, of course, am not talking about the light-wash, high-waisted, looks-good-with-a-holiday-themed-vest nightmares of Saturday Night Live fame. What I am talking about are jeans that allow you to complete all of your duties as a mom, and make you look attractive without looking like a cougar trying to pick up the teens playing pick-up basketball at the park or showing your whale tale to local toddlers. We all have our "going out jeans" or as I call them, Booty Jeans, as I don't have to worry about how much of my anatomy is hanging out since I won't be picking up some spilled goldfish at the local watering hole out with H. But they just do not function in real life not matter how good they make your butt look. As I discussed in my Shorts-gate post, the struggle to find clothes such as these is a pandemic. These jeans, it seemed to me, were the stuff of urban legend, never seen in real life, if my experience watching my mom friends hike up their pants after tying Johnny's shoe and hide what I know are toned butts in loose fitting, yet appropriate pants, is any evidence.

I went shopping with a friend this weekend, since as the mercury keeps falling, it becomes harder to stick to my no-elastic-waist-pants pact. I was child-free, bloated from my period (since you NEVER want to shop for jeans on a skinny day and wind up with pants you give the evil eye to as they sit, mocking you, on your closet shelf the other 353 days of the year you don't fit into them), and determined. In my search I came across several types of completely unacceptable jeans:

Skinny jeans - Can these every-gals-permission-slip-to-dress-like-an-80's-hooker please just go away? I know maybe two people in my life who can wear these jeans and even they don't feel comfortable doing so. So why would the rest of us? I'm not sure actual movement is possible in these pants so they preclude any jungle gym scaling, making them a non-option for me - along with the fact I would look like I could star in a Sir Mix A Lot video. And to those of you who do rock this look, enough already. Your labia called and it wants its blood flow back.

The "Boyfriend" jean - These jeans, made popular by Katie Holmes (no, I won't call you Kate, you and Ricky Schroeder need to remember what paid for your orthodontia and get over yourselves), are baggy, worn and cuffed and are supposed to remind you of a pair of pants you pilfered from your boyfriend's closet. Well, up until I met H, who rocks quite the booty, I had never dated a guy whose ass was even marginally close to the size of mine, being the pear that I am. And wearing pants to the playground that look like they should be worn home on the Walk of Shame, complete with raccoon eyes and high heels? Um, no.

Ultra Low Rise jeans - Crack is whack. Enough said.

Faded/Distressed jeans - My children wreak enough havoc on my clothing, I don't need my clothes to come pre-destroyed. In addition, having not mastered the bleach dispenser on the new washer, so I have enough faded clothing of my own right now, thanks. And also? Those fade marks they make right across the hip area? Dear God, why?

Completely demoralized, I made my way to Ann Taylor Loft and like a vision, there they were. With a halo of light shining behind them. The Classic Boot Cut. A nice, even wash, with a medium rise, straight leg and just enough stretch to forgive weekend wine and donut binges, making them actually wearable on Monday mornings, previously the domain of yoga pants. So if you are in my and Michelle's boat, get thee to this store, because mean Mommy might have bought every pair they make if you don't act soon.