8 DAYS: Comfort (and Joy!)

I am a middle-aged, middle-class, middle-muffined-top kind of gal. Although I haven’t totally achieved it yet, like most women my age, I am aiming for that “comfortable” time in my life. Other women will tell you, your 40’s and 50’s are supposed to be a FANTASTIC time in your life! Most likely, the kids are grown, you finally get some time for yourself, and if you are lucky, you will still have alot of energy and  good health.

I’d have to agree with their assessment... I know I am fortunate, but for the FIRST time in my life, I AM really comfortable and content with my place and stage in life. I would LIKE to say that I am more comfortable than EVER in my own skin, but that wouldn’t be quite true... Honestly, the only thing that is NOT comfortable here in these middle years, is my underwear.

Lately, I have wondered, like the holidays themselves, do I simply EXPECT too much of them?

I believe it’s the JOB of a good pair of underwear to make our clothes fit better. I expect them to simultaneously hide my muffin top, erase that extra weight I’ve put on since summer and to leave no visible panty lines.

I had a wedding to attend this weekend, so earlier in the week, I began to scour through my closet for something to wear. Since I am into “comfort” there were not many clothing options in my closet that met the description of "winter- holiday -semi-formal" . I FINALLY discovered a little three piece number in the back of my closet that I had bought on sale back in the days when I faithfully attended Weight Watchers. This outfit was made of this stretchy brown crinkle fabric that was a little like those “One Size Fits All” blouses that come in a tube. As a test drive, I thought to try it on in advance, and sure enough, it was too tight.

With a whole week to go to until the wedding, I thought I could “fix” the problem by stretching the skirt. I stuffed it with as many pillows as I could find, hoping to stretch it up several sizes. The night of the wedding came and as I slipped on the dress, I could tell immediately that my plan had NOT worked. That skirt must have been made of memory foam, because all those crinkles drew back together as tight as a group of gossipy high school girls.

So whose responsibility was it to solve my problem?

Me? No… The bakery I’ve been known to frequent a little too much lately? No... The solution to my problem was someone I know  always has my back (side)... My UNDERWEAR!

Hey, I would simply “upgrade” my underwear, so I brought out the “strong guns” which I keep grouped together in a gallon size zip-lock baggy, under the misnomer of “Shapewear”. Judging by the large number of styles I have accumulated over the years, I must have purchased a new pair every time I’ve had to dress up over the last twenty years. After spending ten minutes rolling and twisting around on the bed to get into the darned thing, I realized this “shape wear” extended all the way down to my mid-thigh and extended way up above the area that used to be called my waist, all the way up to my bra.

At first, I PANICKED! I wasn’t sure if my boobs had dropped THAT low, or not- then I realized this extra long top held an ingenious design feature. If I rolled the waistline up to my boobs, the muffin top magically disappeared. It was almost a Christmas Miracle, until I realized the extension panel would only stay “up” as long as I did. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize this until I got OUT of the car to go in, then again when I got UP from the table at the reception. The muffin exploded under my jacket like Mount Vesuvius and it was NOT a pretty site.

One rumor which I can now confirm as TRUE, is that during these "comfortable” years, there are a few things  that can make you “uncomfortable” , like when your kids have supposedly launched. Often a successful launch is a mirage, and as their rocket misfires and  it returns back to earth, it brings “back” things that were not with it when you saw it life off from the front door stepof the Kennedy Space Center. These “things” can range from extra laundry, to new habits to new pets to new friends.

Although my son’s rocket misfired, I TRY to be a “good” mother.  I INSIST on him helping out more around the house. One of his chores is to help out with the laundry. At first, I couldn’t get over how he was SO PROFICIENT at this task, I mean it takes DAYS to get the trash taken outside but the laundry gets done in a SNAP! Using my Instinctive Mother Superpowers, I have since learned that one of his “shortcuts” for getting this task done so quickly is to simply stash the basket in his room, or even worse, to shove pieces under his bed. This wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that I own only about six pairs of underwear. I really don’t have enough spares to have several pairs out socializing with the dust bunnies under his bed.

So last week, I was down to this really nasty- looking pair I had bought on sale. Since my favorite style had been discontinued, I’d bought everything I could find like them on the Sale Table at Dillard’s. This particular pair is an obnoxious shade of pink, a color I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing in my right mind, which is also ironic because women of my age, hormonally- speaking, are NOT in our right minds. For some reason, this pair fit larger than my other underwear. Maybe they were “seconds”, I don’t know… Since there were no other pairs clean in my drawer, I had no choice than to put them on with my jeans, which are NOT mind you, “Mom-Jeans” (I have a little pride…) and wouldn’t you know, the underwear stuck out around the top until I tucked them down all around my waistline!

When I complained about this situation, my young friend simply shrugged and told me to try a thong. She swears on her “thongs”, saying they are “soooooo comfortable” and how she “can’t even feel them“. To me, they look like butt dental floss. Seriously, how could a string sliding between your butt cheeks be COMFORTABLE???

As a designer, I WISH I could design the perfect pair of panties for those of us stuck in the middle years.  They would look like the bikinis of yesteryear, the ones I wore in the ’80’s, before my waistline decided to burst forth over my hips like a fountain. Yet, somehow, they would invisably contain the entire muffin top while sitting low enough to fall below the “natural” waistline, (wherever the heck THAT is!) They would extend low enough to somehow contain the whole butt cheek. They would be made using some revolutionary new Nano Technology, whose fibers microscopically resemble a combination  of a macramé purse and a bungee cord. They would hug and shape the buttock area, yet would magically extend to miraculous lengths as the butt cheeks fall to the knees in our sooner-than-later years.  Then, of course they would add shape without causing pain or embarrassment. In the vicinity where the booty used to formerly reside. New and improved rounded and natural- looking butt cheeks would fill out the jeans to look like Jennifer Lopez. They would instantly and miraculously remove ten, ummm, better make that TWENTY pounds, which I know sounds RIDICULOUS, but hey, it’s MY design and it IS Chrsitmas Time!

I'm just thinking... If kids can ask for front teeth and a hippopotomus for Christmas. If Ertha Kitt could ask for, well let's just say a "Sugar Daddy". If John Lennon could ask for Peace, then why- OH WHY- can't I ask for the ONE thing that would bring me a little comfort and joy here in my middle years. After all, it's Christmas, a time when anything... almost anything… is possible.

Merry Christmas All!