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Let's talk irony

So, you know that I have given birth to three kids now, right?  Well, in my books, the first priority during pregnancies and immediately after-birth is comfort.  More specifically, underwear comfort.  I mean, bloated bellies, expanding girths and extra-cushy buttocks all in the name of delivering healthy babies is the norm and is expected and should be celebrated.  Why should I punish myself during this glorious time with tight, ill-fitting, impractical, wedgie-inducing underwear?  No way, baby.  I'm going the full-bottomed cotton tails in practical white and black.

And ok... fair enough, it's been six months since I gave birth to my latest princess and I'm moving towards my pre-pregnancy weight.  So maybe I no longer need the belly-supporting, up-to-my-chest underwear.  But who has time to shop for underwear with 3 kids under 5?!?  Well, I don't! But apparently my Dear Husband has some time...

 To be fair, while I'm the one that has to wear the underwear, he does have to look at me in them.

So... I don't have time and he has an opinion... and he has decided that he no longer wants to keep seeing those granny pants covering his bea-uuu-tiful wife from neck to crotch.  (Is this too much information?  Never mind, I'm getting to the punch line).  So, unbeknownst to me, my Dear Husband set out to rid me of those humungous (yet comfortable) monstrosities and went underwear shopping for me.

 To his credit, he bought me lovely colours, practical styles and in comfortable materials.  But (wait for it; wait for it because here it is... the punch line....), he bought them TWO SIZES BIGGER than what I wore before getting pregnant!!!

TWO SIZES BIGGER!!!  TWO (as in not one, but two) SIZES BIGGER!  

 Oh the drama... the wailing... the gorgeous looking, new undies, but two sizes bigger than my norm.  I refused to try them on.  I absolutely refused, I tell you.  No way!

 Until, in a fit of petulance, I decided to prove just how ridiculous that sizing was for a petite girl such as me.  Ridiculous, I say!  I am telling you now that, even though I don't even reach 5 feet in my highest heels, I am not short but petite.  As in everything shrunk but proportionally shrunk. Petite, as in my ass is in proportion to my height.

 Uh oh.... they're not as big as I thought they would be.  I don't swim in them as much as I thought I would.  "On my way to my pre-pregnancy weight" meaning I am still a continent and a half away and riding a scooter to get there.  They kinda fit.  Sadly.  But comfortably.  The irony.

 Well... I'm not about to show you pictures of my underwear, so I'll show you some pictures of some other things that I've been up to.  Mainly, a spot of sewing.

 Firstly, our dining stools.  I was thinking that I would wait until my girls were older (and not as messy with food) before recovering our stools.  But seriously, this was the condition they were in... 

I cringed everytime I looked at them.  And, being a stay-at-home mom, I looked at them a lot!

 So, here is the latest version.  And I'm pretty chuffed with them.

Also, after being inspired by my big sis around up-cycling, we found this on one of our neighbourhood walks....


Not bad... just a bit battered.  So I thought I would give it a go...  And came up with this...

*jumping up and down clapping my hands*  Not bad, eh?  Eh?  Eh?

 Geez Ag, how do you manage all this with three kids?  Hmmm... I don't really manage to do it all....

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