So I bought this pair of jeans…

It’s been a while since I have purchased a pair of jeans for myself.  Last fall, winter and early spring I was pregnant, so was wearing maternity pants.  This spring after our baby was born was like Christmas as I pulled all of my pre-pregnancy clothes back out of totes.  Everything was new again, and I could cut off the rubber bands that were keeping my jeans up last fall as I avoided maternity pants as long as possible.

And since I pretty much live in yoga pants (much to my husband’s dismay), I really only wear a couple pair of jeans regularly.  All that background information is to make me look like less of a loser when I tell you it was probably in the spring of 2010 when I bought last myself a pair of jeans.  Sad, I know.

So, I found this cute pair of jeans at pretty much the only place that I know has jeans that will fit my excessively long legs.  Gap.  And, these jeans happened to be on sale and they were also dressier ‘trouser jeans,’ which fit into my master plan of avoiding skinny jeans for so long that they will go out of style.  Please.hurry.

So, I ordered the jeans in a Tall (waist size undisclosed…geez…how personal do you think I’m gonna get on this blog?).  I ordered them (oh yes…I said ‘them.’ OK, so actually I splurged and bought TWO pair of jeans.  I was making up for lost time).  I checked my current Gap jeans to make sure I ordered the right sizes and waited anxiously for the jeans to arrive.

The just recently confessed pair of jeans fit perfect. They are the same style as my favorite jeans, just much darker.  These trouser jeans however, are a different story.

They are at least four inches too long.

I am six foot, two inches tall.

I would love to know, who could wear these jeans?  I mean really, they were so long that even when I tried them on with a pair of high heeled boots (which I also try and avoid like the skinny jeans) they were still too long.  Like, I couldn’t even walk too long.

Did I mention I am I am six foot, two inches tall?

Even though my memory usually fails me, I do remember that momentous time in the spring of 2010 when I was actually in a shopping mall at the physical Gap store.  The first pair of jeans I grabbed had the length of ‘Extra Tall.’  Isn’t that what you would consider me?  Extra tall?

I then also remember them being so long that I asked myself this very same question I am asking here.  Who could wear these?  I possibly asked the 16 year-old skinny jeans wearing clerk (male, of course…making me feel even more awkward that I was avoiding his jean type), and he looked at me and said something…yea, there is no way I’m going to remember what he said.

Anyway, Gap has long jeans.  I am talking super-duper-ain’t-for your-typical-six-foot-tall-girl tall.  And, speaking of tall…I doubled checked the difference in my newly purchased jeans’ length and found that my correct length should be LONG (the jeans that fit) and not TALL (the jeans that make me feel short).

Thank you Gap.  That is the first time I have not been tall enough.  Now to perfect my

hemming skills…

The jeans, post hem.

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Big. Tall. Fat. Chubby-Wubby.

About four years ago when I trained an employee group on customer service, I told a story that I recall like it was yesterday.  I was in Meijer, perusing the chip aisle, when a little girl, probably three or four, said to her mother, “mom, that lady is biiiiiiiiig.”  Nice.

The truth is, I have been tall for as long as I can remember.  While my driver’s license says I’m 5’11”, when I was last measured I actually came to 6’2”.  My self-confidence must have risen slightly because there was a time I would be too scared to even write that.  Six-two…that’s like a man, I know.

I honestly cannot remember for the life of me why I shared that story to the group or what the heck it had to do with customer service.  I’m sure it had some connection, but it’s also likely I wanted to use my platform when speaking in front of a few hundred people to say, “Hey! Teach your kid the word tall if it’s the only thing you teach them!”  I’m not big.  I’m tall.  There’s a rather big (no pun intended) distinction there.

So about a month or so ago our toddler was looking at her reflection in my husband’s car and it was distorted.  She said to me, “Hey mom look. I look fat!”  Then she backed up and went forward multiple times saying, “Fat…regular…fat…regular.”  She was pretty excited about the whole thing, but I was somewhat appalled that she would say that, and I told her she was just perfect no matter how she looked.

Then she said it again when she was all bundled up underneath her Halloween outfit.  It was something to the effect of, “I feel fat.”  Really, did our toddler who just turned three say she feels fat?  While I can’t say for sure that I have never, ever said that in front of her (but she would remember, even if I said it once two years ago), I can say that it isn’t something I say often, if at all.

So, I started paying attention to things and finding out how this word, fat, has entered her vocab so much.  As we’ve been reading books over the last few weeks it’s probably come up at least once per day.  The big fat caterpillar…the big fat cat had a big fat smile…and so on and so on.  Seems totally harmless until your toddler starts using the word like a teenager.

The kicker was when she looked at her precious baby sister the other day and said, “Mom, she has a fat face.”  WHAT?  So, acting quickly I said, “Your sister isn’t fat.  She’s a healthy, happy baby.”  To which she replied, “Well, what is she then? You know, her cheeks and stuff.”

Good question.

At the spur of the moment I said, “Your sister is a cute little chubby-wubby.” And she is.  At seven months she has chubby-wubby cheeks and chubby-wubby legs.  I.just.love.them.  The chubber-wubbers is a happy, healthy babe. 

Our toddler does listen well.  Tonight she pushed her skinny little belly out when I was putting her to bed and said, “Mom look, I have a chubby-wubby belly.  But it’s not fat!”  Success?  Failure?  Is there really a difference between fat and chubby-wubby?  I think I’ll stick to telling her not to comment on her or other people’s appearance and remind her God made each one of us just perfect.  Even my big, chip aisle shopping, tall as a man self.