The Someday Shorts

I got married in 2001.   This was my first marriage, which was to a very nice guy.   After some years we realized we weren’t meant to be and got an amicable divorce.  Not unlike me, he is now happily married and has two small children of his own.   But this post isn’t about him or that marriage.   It’s about a pair of shorts.

A young lady (or in my case not so young lady) engaged and planning on getting married needs to find a dress.   The day of the wedding the bride is supposed to look spectacular and that involves being just the proper weight.   That commonly means going on a diet in the months before the wedding.  

I did do the diet thing and I lost a good bit of weight.   I hadn’t figured out the exercise part back then so all I did was eat a lot less calories.  That summer, I got this pair of green beach shorts.   Bright, day-glow kind of green.  I loved those shorts.    They fit me well when I was at my lowest weight at about 110 pounds.  

I got married and didn’t care quite as much about my weight after that and those shorts got renamed to the “110 pound shorts.”   I tried every so often to wear them but dimensionally, there was no way.   Then there were the pregnancy years and there was triple no way during that time.   Someday I would wear them, I would think when I saw them.

And then I learned to exercise.  I really got into exercising.  Exercise became a significant component of my daily routine.    My weight wasn’t terribly low at this point, mostly because muscle weighs a lot more than fat.   So this morning I’m in the closet and I look at the shorts and see those fifteen-year-old green “110 pound shorts” and I think, “I wonder…”

I figured the shorts would fit, but I weigh ten pounds more today.  How would they fit?   They were loose.   I couldn’t believe it.   They not only fit, they were comfortable.  So now I can wear my Someday Shorts.   The bit about diet and exercise together really works.

The Big Boy Update:  My son has had itchy eyes on two occasions now.  He’s done something both times that is terribly poignant.   He will get a little bit of water and delicately daub it at the corner of his eye.  When I asked him if he’d like eye drops he was grateful and stayed very still for me to put drops in his eyes.  

The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter forgets the number sixteen.  She likes to count and loves to sing and frequently does some sort of made up counting song.   She always forgets sixteen.   It’s so predictable now that my husband and I jump in and say, “and sixteen.  Don’t forget sixteen.”

Fitness Update:  Eight miles today, although it was indoors due to weather.   But eight miles, even at a slow pace, is eight miles.