Skinny jeans are awful. For everyone involved. The women trying to squeeze themselves in and those of us poor suckers who have to look at the ending result.

Honestly, I don’t think even Heidi Klum can pull them off. If a Victoria’s Secret model can’t do it, then we really can’t expect much of anyone else to either. They make your hip, ass and feet look enormous.

Where are the flare style jeans? I’ve searched online everywhere and no dice. The closest I’ve found is Gap has a ‘Curvy Girl’ style. Uh… I’ll reserve judgment until I try on a pair. Gap used to be my Mecca for jeans too. Because you could order by inseam and on average jeans it is always a little bit too short for me. Some of my favorite jeans were from them!

This is so very aggravating since I can no longer fit into my pre-Cody jeans. I have a big stack of gorgeous pants that are going to be headed to Goodwill. Maybe I’m odd, but when I find a good pair of pants, there is a sort of connection made. Like, hello love, let’s hang out today because we look fabulous together. With the right style pant, you can rock anything.

For me, that means flare style dark wash jeans. I wear them until they fall apart so they have to start out dark to begin with. I don’t like the look of light jeans. And acid wash, is that really making a comeback? Please, no.

I’ll settle for bootcut for now. But I’ll be so glad when this obsession with leggings and skinny jeans is over. Ladies, they are doing you no favors.

The past three nights I’ve had bad dreams. Not nightmares per say but dreams where things go really wrong and I wake up thinking WTF. Then roll over and try to fix the dream.

I’d like for them to stop.

Seeing as how my daughter is now a very stubborn three years old, we are taking the more totalitarian approach when it comes to the whole potty training thing. I’ve tried stars, bribery, coercion, cheering like a football team, reading, videos, and pretty much everything short of water boarding the child. Let’s hope she gets this before the age of four.

It’s not that she doesn’t know how. She just plum well doesn’t WANT to. And wearing a pull up that would make even the eyes on an elephant water doesn’t even phase her in the slightest. You’d think that the stink would be a problem. Or even slightly uncomfortable. You know, like normal people? But no!

So once we finish with these last pull ups, we’re done. She’s got a number of pretty panties and she is going to use them.

One tactic that I was hoping would work was letting her pick them out. But you know what, why would she be upset about shitting in Cinderella undies if Cinderella is cheesing it up on her pull ups? Marketing fail? Yes! She already regularly defecates on princesses and it doesn’t cause her the slightest bit of distress. So naturally princesses printed on cloth are not going to stop her.

CHILD YOU ARE TOO SMART FOR THIS! WHY ARE YOU SO STUBBORN?

But silly me, how quickly I do forget. Maybe she’s this stubborn because both Andy and myself are terribly stubborn ourselves. Naturally that would be one flaw that manifests itself stalwartly in our children. Gah.

While I’m making a list of demands to the universe, I’d also like for my laundry to start folding and putting itself away. Because I’m going to need all the help I can get.

And speaking of laundry, while I’ve finally gotten all of my maternity clothing put away, it turns out that I need to donate about 75% of my wardrobe because it no longer fits. And since I’ve hit the five month post partum mark, I’m pretty sure these hips are here to stay. Which means I have two pair of pants that fit and both are different sizes so I’m not entirely sure what that means.

So on one side, yay! Now I have boobs and hips! On the other, I have way too many clothes that don’t fit. So I think tonight after my yoga class (which I NEED because I skipped last week and I can totally tell just based on my stress levels) I’m going to begin yet another purge.

Also, I need to wash my car. I’ve noticed that as of late, my car and I are beginning to look alike. Disheveled, decorated with random pieces of habitat, and occasionally covered in fecal matter not of our own making.