Butt Crack is Whack

I have been surrounded by crack lately - not the powerfully addictive form of cocaine. Rather, I have been forced to witness an endless parade of butt cracks. At every school event or activity, there is at least one mom who while kneeling or sitting criss-cross applesauce on the gym floor shares too much information.

I assume this epidemic began when jeans were on the low rise. Moms everywhere watched fashion experts who told us not to wear the mom jeans. You know, the ones with the waist that sits just under your ribcage with the small pockets that make your backside look like the broad side of a barn.

So as not to be caught in the mom jeans, we gave them up in favor of the boot cut, low rise jeans that were the rage. We traded the wide seat for muffin tops.

I tried the low rise jeans after I had the kid. Every time I wore them, I was reminded of the extra roll of baby weight that had appeared where my lovely waist used to be. The low rise waist sliced right through the worst of it. What's more, I was always on hyper alert for a change in temperature so that I could pre-empt any plumber moments. Find me a sleep deprived new mom who has the brain capacity to diaper, feed, bathe and entertain a newborn while keeping tabs on her pants. I went straight to yoga pants and stayed there for 3 years. I did have one pair of what I formerly referred to as my fat jeans that worked; however, I tore the seat out of them in a freak movement class accident which resulted in my mooning the entire community center. See previous post, You Can't Save Your Face and Your Ass at the Same Time. Ladies, I do feel your pain.

I completely understand that times are tight and that clothing, shoes, boots and winter gear for kids who are constantly growing is the financial priority. It certainly is at our house. Thankfully, there are lots of mid rise jeans available in every price point. I found some at Target last year for $16. They are not the designer Not My Daughter's Jeans, but I don't have to fret about the muffin tops or plumber's smiles. I figure I have at least one more season before the Target jean's seat warranty expires.

Until mom's rise to the mid rise occasion, let's have a moment of silence for the still suffering mom caught in low rise hell and agree to avert our gaze from the potentially distracting derriere's while seated in the gym.