I should have thought about it before I walked into my closet that morning. Perhaps laid out my outfit the night before. After all, this was not a typical Friday. My husband, my oldest daughter, and I were making our annual trip to see her cardiologist in Indianapolis. This was not a day to throw on my go-to sweat pants, my 2011 VBS t-shirt, a messy bun (and not a cute, trendy messy bun, either. We’re talking the “I haven’t brushed my hair in three days” look), and my grandma sandals. Yes, that is a typical weekday morning outfit as I grab my cup of coffee (always the appropriate mom accessory), hop in my mini-van, and run my oldest son to school across town.
But no, that wouldn’t do today. So inevitably, I found myself standing in my closet, thumbing through my wardrobe, and getting more and more discouraged. It’s true, I’ve gained a little (A LOT) of weight since I got married, so about 75% of my wardrobe doesn’t fit. Of the remaining clothing, at least half is for a cooler season, and everything I had left…was horrendous. At least, that’s how it felt. This is not an uncommon occurrence among women and I reacted with what I assume, was a typical reaction: I yelled at my husband. “All I have is frumpy homeschool mom clothes because I’m a frumpy homeschool mom!” For this, Mr. Frank had no response and his attempts to comfort me were met with my flailing frustrations.