Youth Has Left the Building!!


It was a gorgeous, blue sky day in Western Pennsylvania and I had some shopping to do!

My dear husband gave me a total green light to go shopping last weekend - he took the kids out to play with his Lego collection for the afternoon - they would be quite content.

I desperately needed some new spring/summer clothing, so it was time to go for it!

I have been waiting for a good opportunity to go to the mall since Christmas, gift cards burning a hole in my pocket.  Today was the day!  Armed with my purse, gift cards, and sunglasses, I hopped in the family van ("Trusty Rusty," as I like to call it) and zipped over to the mall.

I was on top of the world!

Then I arrived at the mall.  Now, mind you, I shop for clothes at the mall about twice a year and sometimes not that frequently (if that could be considered in the "frequent" category).  So I was thrilled to be able to putter around, looking at whatever I wanted to without any children clamoring for snacks, drinks, or to go to the toy store.


Total Bliss!!  I LOVE my husband!!!

As I meandered through the aisles, I found myself mumbling, "$50 for ONE SHIRT??  You've got to be kidding!  My kid smears chocolate pudding on this and I'm doomed!!"  Well, I found a dressy little top at JC Penny's (my "dress-up" wardrobe needs some revamping...about 8 years overdue), then I headed over to Aeropostale for some jeans.  At least, that was what I thought I'd buy there.  That was why I asked for the gift card, after all!!


Have you ever shopped in Aeropostale?  Well, I obviously hadn't.

I asked for a gift card there because I love their jeans, which I had obtained second hand.  If I had been the original jeans purchaser, I would've decided not to go back there in person.  Ever.  If I could help it.  Customer service was really great, so that was not the reason for my negative experience there.

Why, you may ask, am I so adverse to going to this one particular store?

Well...it's teeny-bopperville U.S.A., that's why!!

If there was ever an environment and clientele that would make a middle-aged mother of three feel extremely dumpy and too old to darken the door, this is it!!

All the customers were beautiful teenage things that could fit into size 2 clothing, had perfect complexions, and had their moms with them to buy their picks.  I found some t-shirts for $2.99 bins and thought I'd take a dive in to see what sort of bargains I could find.

A t-shirt is a t-shirt, right?

Uh-unh.  Wrong-arito!

I quietly made my way to the dressing room to try out my picks.  Every one of those shirts highlighted every pregnancy-induced imperfection on my person.  The t-shirts were thin and didn't do a thing for hiding that post-baby tummy pouch.  And all the things I can't stand about my figure were highlighted.  Oh joy.

Then I tried on a trendy little sundress.  "Oh my goodness!,"  I subconsciously whispered, "someone my age cannot wear a dress this short.  I am too old for this store!"  Usually, I wear loose, comfy clothes.  And I never spend that much time in front of a mirror.  Good grief!  

I had an overwhelming awareness that youth had exited the building and I was left behind in its' unforgiving dust. 

I tell you what: I hot-footed it out of that store faster than kids after an ice cream truck! 

My self-esteem was in the gutter.  And I was pretty sure I resolved never to return to the mall again.


The final stop of my woo-hoo shopping trip by myself day was Walmart.

I tell you what else:  A trip to Walmart is a self-esteem booster! 

Everyone there is normal-shaped.  Not the laser-cut perfect bodies at the mall.  Oh no - downhome, people who live normal lives folk.  My kind of people!  I found several clothing items there that were modestly cut, budget-affordable, and forgiving enough to flatter even my post-baby figure.  Why didn't I start here?



With confidence somewhat renewed, I checked out and returned home to my family.  My dear husband helped me carry in my treasure trove of new-clothes finds.  After we had brought all the bags into the house, I told him about my Aeropostale experience.  How it had exposed every imperfection on my post-pregnancy stay-at-home wife and mother body.  And you know what he said?

"What imperfections?"

Really?  Did he really just say that to me?

I LOVE THIS MAN!! 


And I told him so.  Then kissed him.  And thanked God for him.

If my hubby's okay with the way I am, then nothing else matters.  I need to take my cue from him instead of worrying, comparing myself to the rest of the world.  Why do I do that?

 And I need to remember what God says about me:

I am fearfully and wonderfully made!!!


Take that, Aeropostale! 

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