Theme Parks with a Fashionista, or, You Really Went Out in Public Like THAT?!?!?!

When hubby and I get our taxes back, we always try to pay down a large bill and then do something fun for our family. This year we got Disney passes as the fun part. I wanted the Big Daddy passes that allow access to the water parks and some other fun things for free. But for our family of five, that was more money than I could justify. Instead, we got the Big Momma passes. We get discounts at the water parks and discounted access to those other things. The important part is that we also get free parking (wish we collected money like with Monopoly) and no blackout dates. Between our screwy days and hubby's screwy work schedule, it's nice to be able to go when we want.

The boy loves him some roller coasters. So does the big girl. The baby has never been big enough and is just now starting to get tall enough. The problem is my petite children. Although the baby is tall enough, she isn't big enough. And then this morning there's the report of the little girl that came off a carnival ride. She only had bumps and bruises, but it was a small ride. Not happening for the baby. When she gets some more bulk to her, I'll be ok. Hubby takes the two older kids on the rides and he rides with the boy. And holds onto him. One time the boy almost came off a ride as it plunged down the last steep hill and it scared the bejeezus out of hubby. If hubby can't go, the boy doesn't go. Period.

I can tell a story can't I? I always feel like you need the background. I think it's really so I can hear the sound of my own voice a little longer. I don't ask my kids that famous question: Do you think I'm talking just to hear the sound of my own voice? The answer is yes, yes I am. Anyway, all of the first two paragraphs to say that the baby and I have some free time on our hands while the others are riding. Can I say that my two new favorite words are "fast pass"? Not as much wating time. Loving that. The baby and I wander the stores or try to find a ride to go on that doesn't involve spinning or jerky movements. Sometimes it works. Sometimes we just try to find a shady spot to sit. And watch people.

You would think people would know better. They don't. Did they look in the mirror? They DID!! And liked what they saw. Why? Is the mirror dirty? Do you need glasses? Both? Maybe they just don't know any better. They should. C'mon people, use a little common sense. Yeah, I know, it isn't that common. Big sigh. Here are just a few observations. My eyes will never be the same.

• Keep your bra to yourself. I don't need to see that you are wearing a bra that clashes, intentionally, with your tank top. Really? They have these great clips you hook to the back of your bras that will make the straps fit the racer back style of tank tops. That way, I don't have to see your tacky bra and you look like you went up a cup size. We bought some for the big girl for dance one year. Her costume had a racer back and there was no way she was letting it all hang out and we didn't have the money to buy a fancy bra with clear straps. That you can still see. She said she never felt it, even while she was dancing. They were $5 at the dollar store. One cup size, huh? I may have to start using them. And if your shirt isn't made to wear a bra with it, as in loose and flowy and low cut, and you have large breasts, wear something else. I do not need to know that you bought your bra at Victoria's Secret. Your bra should stay a secret. Leaves a little mystery. Anyone know what that is? Yeah, I didn't think so.
• Leggings are NOT pants!! Oh my giddy aunt, how many times do I need to say that?!?! 'Cause I will say it over and over and over!! If the material is stretched so thin that I can see your underwear, or the fact that you aren't wearing any, you're wearing the wrong pants. The only ass I want to see is hubby's. And Matthew McConaughey's. But they aren't women. I think they should ban flesh colored leggings. There is only one reason you wear that. They're attention getting. But you're getting the wrong kind of attention. People are pointing and laughing. I know because I've seen them. I just gripe about it. And really, if you don't have the butt of an 18 year old, firm and perky, you really should cover that thing up if you're going to wear leggings. Ugh!
• Don't think I'm only picking on the ladies. I am an equal opportunity fashion basher. Gentlemen, and I use that term loosely, pull up your damn pants!! I don't give a shit what kind of underwear you're wearing. I really don't care to see the stains on your tighty whiteys. Yuck! It's a prison thing that means you are available for the men to come tap your ass. And I don't mean with their hands. And if you have to walk bow legged to keep your pants from falling down, you have gone from ridiculous to ridiculous AND stupid. Pull them up where they belong. Please!!
• Men should not wear capris. They aren't cute. I've tried to learn to appreciate the look. I just can't. I don't get it. It doesn't look right. Specially when they wear them loose and slung low. And with a wife beater. You do know why they call them a wife beater, right? Because you look like you beat your wife. Come into the now...
• And finally, for men and women, crack kills. Pull it up, wear a belt. Suspenders are making a comeback. I don't like women's jeans. They come up to my waist and cut me in half. They make me look like a two lump snow woman. I buy most of my jeans in the juniors department. They are cut lower and sit on my hips or below my waist. They fit my silhouette better. The problem is that they are slung super low most of the time. I have to wear a belt or I'm showing the world my undies and beyond. I just love the fact that I can wear juniors jeans AND a belt. As someone that has been over weight for the majority of my life, that is a great accomplishment for me. I'm still carrying 20 more pounds than I need to, but this too shall pass. I always make sure before I bend over or sit down that I'm covered . Nobody needs to see that. 

I went jeans shopping this summer with big sis. I knew when I went out to Texas that my pants were too big. I could take them off and put them on without unbuttoning or unzipping them. I don't get much of an opportunity to shop by myself for myself and when I take the kids they get fidgety after about 30 minutes. She made me get a size smaller, which were still too big. And then a smaller size, which fit but were a little tighter than I like. Then a size smaller, which fit, but when I sat down, they couldn't contain all my awesomeness and it spilled over the top. UGLY! So I went back up one size. But that's also how I started looking like the aformentioned snow woman. They fit and feel good, but lumpy is what I am. That's why I always bought a bigger size. They didn't cut me in half. Of course, the stress of the holidays helped that when I lost about 18 pounds in a month. But when the stress went away and I could eat again, I gained some of that back. Our no sugar for Lent has helped trim some of the extras and I look better and feel better. I also hope I know my limitations. The big girl and I have a deal in the dressing room. Total honesty without brutality. I like that deal and so does she. Now if I could go into the dressing room with those people that like to wear leggings and show their cracks...