Happy 8 Months to C & Z and a happy 2 months to JT (as he is affectionately known at our house).

So far 8 months is fun. However, I have noticed that it is creeping up on my 1 year anniversary of not working. (No, I’m not counting my 2 day a week gig as a real job. I have almost no responsibility and I don’t have to go there everyday). Upon this discovery, I’ve also realized that I’ve hit a new low in SAHM-dom.

I am DVR-ing Oprah.

This leads me to the next more important reason for this post:

The BonTon Pact of 1997

Wherein Susan and I vowed to immediately end the life of the other were she ever to be seen wearing a plus sized sweatshirt with animals or flowers appliquéd to it.

I wish to make a few additions to this pact. I should just call S on the phone since she’s really the only one responsible for putting me (and anyone who can see me) out of my misery, but I am preserving the sanctity of nap time.

1. Should either of us ever call Oprah to give us a makeover…
2. Should I ever require Oprah to give me a makeover…
3. Should I been seen wearing maternity clothes after my children can walk and speak…

…Immediate end of life should ensue.

There, I feel better. It’s hard being this frumpy for this long. I gave myself a year to focus on the babies and not worry about what I look like, but god almighty, I’m starting to scare myself. That said, I will now make another vow, right here on the internet that you can all hold me to:

By my 31st birthday I will go through my entire closet and eliminate every article of clothing that does not fit and flatter whatever shape I happen to be at that time.

This may not seem like such a big deal if you never seen my closet. If you have, or if you have been unlucky enough to try to go through it with me (poor f.fanny may never recover) you understand what an undertaking this would be. It WILL happen. I WILL, by next fall, be less hideous than I am now. It may also involve a haircut. I know, but drastic times…