You all have been so sweet about my tips for plus-sized clothing.  It’s nice to know I’m not the only big girl just trying to look nice.  Several of you commented on how ill-fitting plus-sized clothes are.  I completely agree!  Someone needs to write a letter to the clothing designers letting them know that just because we are heavier doesn’t mean our arms are longer or our taste for stylish clothing has disappeared.

Many of you asked about my ruffled denim skirt.  It’s by ZoZo.  I got it a couple of years ago at Dillard’s and paid way too much for it.  So thank you for the compliments.  I will be forwarding them all to James so he can see the value of buying an expensive item every once in a while.  I may even print them out and laminate them for my wallet so I have it ready the next time we are shopping.

Speaking of shopping and clothes, I am getting ready to fly on an airplane next week and I am so confused.  I am not clear on the liquids rules and what to do with my hairspray.  Do I need to buy a teeny tube of toothpaste?  Shampoo?  Deodorant?  I need help here people.  And while we’re at it, what do I do with myself during my 8 hour layover in Denver?  Is it possible to nap in an airport?

And don’t get me started on how I am going to pack for 5 days in one tiny suitcase.  My hair styling tools alone will take up half of the space.  No one wants to see the mess that is my hair before I plug in my straightening iron.  It’s not pretty.  Not pretty at all.

This weekend we will be pushing James through the last bit of tax season 2012.  No one can make any loud noises and no household appliances can stop working.  I have gone around the house giving lectures about the importance of keeping the peace and the A/C unit that is on its last leg has agreed to hold up for at least 5 more days.  I can’t say the same for the lawnmower, but it has been the difficult child for a while now.

Looking back over this post I can see that I’ve covered it all from clothing to airports to air-conditioning.

My job here is done.

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Yesterday I went into the city to run a zillion errands.  I know that’s a lot, but I was all alone, sans children, nobody, nada, zip….I was kind of excited.  I knew I would be able to get a lot of things done if I was allowed to have my own thoughts and not wait for other people to unbuckle, find a place to put their cup, me shout to move the cup before it spills, they stumble out of the van, me push the button for the door to close then they say they really, really wanted to push the button so we wait for it to close then push it to open again and then they push the button then wait for the door to close again, let them push the lock button on the key fob….hold my hand while we are in the parking lot, don’t ask Mommy about a movie we saw last week while we’re trying not to get hit by cars, oh just let me carry you, now my back hurts……

Ah yes….I was alone.  I just got out of the car, closed the door and walked away.  It was heavenly.

I did a lot of running and by the time I got to Sam’s Club I was tired.  I needed to use the bathroom so I went in and as I was sitting down {ahem} I heard my phone make jingle that I had a text.  So I fished the phone out of my purse and checked my texts while I sat for a second.  I was enjoying just sitting there for a minute so after I replied to the text I made the sort of non-decision to play a quick game of solitaire on my phone as long as it was in my hand anyway.  There I sat, enjoying the peace and quiet of the Sam’s bathroom and mindlessly playing a quick game of cards.  I must have sat there longer than I realized because what happened next is, well, let me tell you….

I heard a couple of men coming into the bathroom.  At first I had the panic feeling that I had accidentally gone into the men’s bathroom.  But after just a second I realized that they were just in there to clean it.  Apparently they had been waiting outside of the bathroom to see if anyone went in or out and since no one did they thought it was empty.  They started to clean and I froze…what do I do?  I know it seems obvious NOW that I should have said something.  But that thought didn’t hit me right at that moment.

As I sat there hearing their whole conversation about a party the weekend before and something about beer, I begged God to let them just clean the counter and not the stalls.  Please God….don’t let them come my way.

But they did.  They made their way around the corner and started cleaning the stalls, one by one.  Now I was really in trouble.  I mean, I had waited too long.  If I spoke up now it would be weird and if I didn’t they would surely eventually get to my stall and I would be in there trying to figure out a way to flush myself down the toilet.

Finally, of course, as they got closer I had to speak.  I swallowed the huge lump in my throat and said, “Uh guys….someone’s in here.”  Clever right?  Not too accusing, not too much information.

From the sound of it they kind of jumped and then said, “Hey!  There’s a lady in here!” then they high tailed it out of the bathroom.  They tried to muffle their laughter, but it was clear.  I sat there wondering how long I had to wait before I could get out without being recognized as the crazy lady that sat in the bathroom while they cleaned it.

A second later other women filed in to use the bathroom and I just tried to join the crowd and slip out unnoticed. I have a feeling there will be a picture of me in their cleaning closet with the caption below, “Weirdo…stay away from this one,” right next to a snapshot faxed over from Bed Bath & Beyond.

Once I made the great escape I got my groceries and got out of there as fast as I could.  And now, of course, I have to start shopping at a different Sam’s.

The list of places I can no longer patronize is getting to be pretty long.

All in all, despite the bathroom fiasco, my day was pretty great.  Sunshine and silence are a winning combination.

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I love Mondays….the predictability of knowing it’s a school, work, normal day.  We keep the weekends set aside for a plethora of activities.  Once we’ve done the deep, Saturday morning cleaning the rest of the day is up for grabs.  This weekend I filled orders and worked on a little desk for Hope’s new room.  Several of the kids mowed and we relaxed a little.  Then the bad thing happened….

I sat down in my recliner at about 2:30 on Saturday to scarf down half a sandwich and pre-watch a show I had taped for the kids.  But the receiver, the one that magically holds 100 hours of shows and would have blown my mind in the 70s when my grandparent’s pop up VCR was big news to the whole family, wouldn’t turn on.

It went downhill from there.  I spent an hour on the phone with service people, getting transferred from one technical adviser to another.  They kept transferring me because I kept asking to be transferred.  “I don’t care that you told me your name is Bob, your heavy accent makes it too hard to understand what you are saying.  Please transfer me to someone in America.”  Finally I got someone who’s first language is English and he eventually deduced that my receiver had bitten the proverbial dust.  We will be having a funeral as soon as arrangements can be made.  I’ll be wearing black in the meantime.

They will send me a replacement, but all of my recorded shows are gone.  My hard work and dedication to having something new and interesting for the kids to watch is lost.  I had at least 30 hours of previewed movies just waiting for their time to shine….now gone into that big TV receiver in the sky.

Since I won’t have reception for several more days, last night James and I sat in his office to watch “The Amazing Race” on his tiny TV.  Fortunately, even the smallest television set cannot dwarf the huge tears shed by Rachel when her day is not “fun and good.”  Or her extreme mood swing back to happy land when she wins a task.  That girl needs therapy.

It’s a good thing Monday is here and I won’t really miss my DVR again until the weekend.  By then I should have my new box and some freshly recorded shows.  I will be able to wear color again and it will be like it never happened.  That is, assuming I can figure out how to plug in the new one by myself.  That may cause me to go into some kind of anxiety attack.

I’m not going to think about that.  Happy thoughts….happy thoughts….

Have a great week!

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