In the Land of Giants (and other tales not long enough to warrant a full post)

I lost fifteen pounds between September and Thanksgiving. (I gained five over Christmas.) This has led to shopping (and subsequent squeezing into the new skinny clothes), one of my least favorite things to do (both the shopping and the squeezing).

I used to love shopping, but since moving to New Jersey, an unofficial mall paradise, I am less enamored with the sport. Yes, it is technically a sport here. Parking alone requires great perseverance and strategy. Once inside the mall, you’ve got to have lots of endurance and strength. If there are sales — good sales — you may find yourself involved in a full-contact fight for survival.

Back to the point. I think all sizes have changed since the last time I had to shop for jeans. First off, my favorite cut no longer exists. Secondly, I now have to shop in the petite section. I am 5’7″! That’s not exactly short. A pair of regular Gap jeans stretches from my bosom to my ankles. No joke. What is going on here?! Have I teleported to the land of giants? I don’t understand.

If anyone has tips on where to buy normal jeans for curvy chicks, preferably ones that won’t require deductions from our 401K, please share.

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In other news, one of my very best friends from college got married this weekend. I’m SO EXCITED for her!! Her dress was stunning and the cake was delicious, of course, but her smile was the best part of the whole day. So, a big congratulations to Claudia and Darryl! May God draw you closer to each other as you grow closer to Him. I love you and am so thrilled to witness what God will do in and through you in the years to come.

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I work recess at our school two days a week. When the temps or wind chill go below freezing (32 degrees — this happens often throughout January and February), we have recess inside, either the gym (to run) or the library (to watch a movie). Most recently I had a library crew. Since they had already finished the movie chosen by the principal, I grabbed another. That is when I learned fourth grade boys think they’re too cool for VeggieTales. After a few minutes of listening to them shout alternatives and argue over which flicks were good and which weren’t, I grabbed a DVD and popped it in. They continued yelling because the boys thought it was “too girly” and the girls still wanted VeggieTales. I let them know that a boy actually suggested it. Another boy then threatened to puke all over the table. Off went the lights. I made them sit in silence for a full five minutes. Then I started the real torture: The Secret Garden (1950 version). Those poor kids. I do feel for them. I mean, they were already spending recess inside and I aggravate their suffering by making them watch a movie almost as old as my mother. It wasn’t even the good part! The first twenty minutes (which is all we had time for) is full of moaning and all kinds of people dying of tuberculosis or something like that.

Good news: every child in that class is now praying for warmer weather so they won’t have to sit inside with me again.

I’m praying that too.

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A few random, but valuable lessons learned this week:

• We need a bigger water heater before the children start taking showers every morning.
• Allowing a four-year-old to type an email to Grandma will almost always mess up your laptop. Count on it.
• It is wise to stock up on winter clothing before winter actually arrives. Buy multiple sizes for your children, because they grow even when you tell them not to. (As a sidenote, I think all clothing companies must live in southern California. Why else would all the stores near me — still freezing temps, people! — be complete out of long pants and sweaters for five-year-olds? Why are they selling swimsuits in January?! The rivers and lakes are frozen, people. I want some new gloves and firmly believe I should be able to get them without special ordering online. Oh, well. Lesson learned.)
• It is better to pay the Kohl’s bill by mail or online, than to go into the store where cute things are often on sale and begging to be bought. (Like swimsuits that can’t be worn for at least six more months.)