For the first time in over a year and a half, all of my clothes are on hangars, and my shoes are unpacked. Since moving to the new house, which was originally built in 1860, I have been living out of suitcases, boxes, and piles. Apparently, in the mid-1800s, they didn’t have a need for closets. But now, thanks to my handy dad, I have a beautiful walk-in closet all to myself! There are high racks and low racks, cubbies for handbags, and floor to ceiling shelves dedicated solely to my shoe collection.
I love shoes because no matter how much my weight fluctuates, they continue to fit. Once I got everything unpacked and hung up, I realized about three-quarters of my clothing is no longer my size. And I have some really cute stuff, too, because a couple of years ago, every time my husband would act in one of the ways that eventually made him my wasband, I would take myself on a shopping spree. I accumulated a lot of really nice clothing during that pre-divorce period, and now it is hanging in my new closet, taunting me.
To be fair, I did have the foresight to purchase some of my favorite clothing in multiple sizes. I know myself too well. So, I have three dresses, two pairs of jeans, and some shirts in both a 10 and a 12. As of yet, the 14s are untouched, so I’m feeling pretty good about that.
But they are beckoning, and my daughter’s wedding is rapidly approaching, so I have decided it is time to lose weight. Every day, I commit to starting tomorrow. Most mothers who have daughters getting married in June are already a month into their diet plan. However, here I sit with every intention of polishing off a bag of glazed mini donuts as soon as I finish this piece of convenience store fried chicken.
The chicken and donuts wouldn’t be so bad really, except over the course of the morning I upsized my chai latte from 190 calories to 310, and then added an English muffin with bacon and egg. And shortly after that, I ate some of the pizza that I had ordered last night for the kids. I really thought they would eat more, but there on the kitchen table sat nearly a whole pizza, room temperature and delicious, just the way I like it. It was perfect with the three chocolate Zingers I polished off before taking a nap.
I really do need to get a handle on this whole love affair with food. Come June, I am totally going to regret every single bite. Yes, the bride will be the center of attention, and will look absolutely stunning. But let’s face it, no woman wants to be the “fat ex” at her daughter’s wedding. I secretly, and shallowly, want every guest to think, “Wow! She totally won the divorce!”
So, tomorrow I will eat less and take a walk. And the next day, I will make better food choices, and walk a little farther. And who knows? Maybe one of these days I will grab a pair of shoes from my “athletic shoe” shelf, and actually work out.
But even if I don’t manage to become a svelte mother of the bride, and I end up draped in a muumuu made of my daughter’s chosen colors of coral, mint, and gold, my feet will look fabulous. Shoes are a weight-fluctuating girls’ best friend. If I’m lucky, maybe the wait staff will be so bowled over by my shoes that they won’t notice when I take a few extra hor d’ouevres. At any rate, I’ll be sure to cross my legs just right so as to showcase my gold strappy sandals, or perhaps mint green stilettos, while I nosh on wedding cake.

Ginger Lumpkin is an author, motivational speaker, and mother of five. Follow her on Facebook, find her on the web: www.gingeretta.com, or contact ginger.columnist@gmail.com.