I finally did it. I finally bought myself a pair of mom jeans. You know, the kind of jeans you laughed about in high school. The ones you said you would never wear. I specifically remember discussing mom jeans with my sister-in-law. We decided that you weren't officially a mother until you wore mom jeans and you shoved your hand up a turkey butt during Thanksgiving preparations. Obviously this was years ago. I guess I still have to do the latter of those...
The change happened after baby number two was born. My current jeans just weren't cutting it anymore. The hips were too narrow now. The waist? Why was it so low all of a sudden? Did the butt shrink, because mine obviously hadn't. You can pretty much guess what happened when I crouched down. Those trendy tears seemed a little inappropriate since now I was a mother of two. I warned my husband of the inevitable need. He verbally cringed.
Taking this step seemed so monumental for some reason. Was it because I was leaving behind my twenty-something body? Was it because I felt like I could no longer be trendy? Was it my unhappiness with my pregnancy battle scars? For whatever reason, I was grasping on to my low-rise jeans by a lone belt loop.
But something changed on my quest for mom appropriate pants. My thoughts towards mom jeans wisened up. These weren't just a pair of high waisted pants anymore.
My mom jeans have meaning.
My mom jeans support the stretched out skin of making not one but two baby miracles.
My mom jeans allow me to crawl on the floor, sit and read books, and jump like a frog with my kids without any oops! in my wardrobe.
My mom jeans are not only comfortable but, dare I say, they are even attractive!
My mom jeans are a right of passage-- a step into a stage of my life that has been an incredible adventure. When I look into the mirror and see my mom jeans (and the baby I'm wearing as an accessory), I feel happy and blessed. God gave me, little me, these two amazing and beautiful creatures to raise.
I am a mother. I rock mom jeans. And my mom jeans are beautiful, just like the children that caused me to wear them.