Self-Proclaimed…
Shlumpadinka.
If you watched Oprah yesterday, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I just can’t stop the frump. Running around in any sort of comfy, soft pants with elasticized waists, my formless shirts hiding the baby pounds that just won’t shed. Covered with stains from painting, cooking, cleaning, spit-up. Hair in a constant ponytail, or worse, using those big sunglasses as a headband. It’s attractive.
I miss the days of work, dressing up, nice fitted shirts, trousers, shoes with heels. (Ever try pushing a stroller in heels in 20 degree weather with snow/ice all over the streets? Gotta get some UGGs) Honestly, even if I had a great wardrobe, it’d be difficult to maintain; if you have an infant, you know what I’m talking about.
Waiting for Spring, so I can dump the frump.