Even though all of the text books say I am in the prime of my life, some days I just want to stick up my middle finger to the mid-forties. My metabolism has come to a screeching halt, I am pretty sure my thyroid function is non-existent, and I really don't know why I am saving any of my pre-pregnancy tops that once looked good around my midriff because those days are apparently long gone too.

I remember the days when I would look at my body in the mirror and like what I saw; granted it was my "just out of high school" running body, but once upon a time had chiseled abs and a rear end that would make a truck stop. Nowadays it doesn't seem to matter how many miles I put on the treadmill, if I nix sugar for the zero calorie monk fruit packets, or dine on a salad and hard boiled egg instead of lasagna, my body is clearly NOT THE SAME.

There is part of me that is still determined to shop in the trendy juniors section. I find myself huffing over the racks silently saying, "Why don't they carry this in an extra-large?" And everybody knows all of the cutest tops are made out of 100% rayon. For some reason, even if the label says machine wash cold then line dry, my rayon shirts seem to have the "Incredible Shrinking Woman" problem, where the vertical coverage decreases with every wash.

Since birthing a child at thirty-six, midriff exposed shirts are no longer a good look for me. That baby pouch just never seems to go away even when I give us this day our daily planks...hence my new appreciation of mom jeans. Once I couldn't understand why anyone would wear any pant higher that their hip but now I'll take a little height around the waist.

My Conclusion?

Mom Jeans: It's not about the camel toe...it's about hiding and preserving what once was!