The Great Denim Success

a story about jeans, pastries, tacos and motherhood

I woke up at 6:30am with two things on my mind: pastries and jeans. 

There’s a local bakery that makes the best pastries I’ve ever had in my life (no exaggeration). To clarify: they’re not local to us. No, we have to drive 47 minutes one way to get there. And we have to arrive before they sell out for the day which means leaving the house by 8am on a weekend. Is it worth it? I’ll let you see the picture below and decide for yourself. 

Anyway, back to the acquisition of pastries and jeans; two worthy missions in my estimation. 

I’m told by the more fashionable people that skinny jeans are out. And—clutch your millennial pearls if you need to—I agree with them. Now, reign in your horror, I’m not getting rid of the ones I have. I just find myself reaching for them less. 

I’ve experimented with a few cheap pairs of non-skinny jeans last year; an attempt to dip my toes into a new staple wardrobe piece at low risk to my wallet. Now I’m here to testify: non-skinny, baggy, loose jeans are an overstimulated girlies dream. You mean I don’t have to be aware of my pants the whole time I’m wearing them?! You mean my jeans don’t have to feel loud on my legs and scream in the background of everything I’m trying to do? You mean I can wear pants out in public and it not be a total overstimulation station?!

Some might argue that we should do away with jeans altogether. And if that’s the camp you land in, I support your choices. Wear the linen pants, the skirts, the dresses! (I have those too). It’s just that...I really like jeans. They’ve always been keystone species in the ecosystem of my closet for a long time. And it’s time for them to evolve. 

We loaded up the kids and packed ourselves into the car. They requested to listen to music “you guys used to listen to” which means all the hits from the 1999-2011. They’re fascinated by our “old music”. Jonathan and I are fascinated by how many decades have passed in the blink of an eye. 

After swimming the current of the interstate our car arrives at the shores of the city. We navigated the network of street tributaries and sidewalk streams until we landed at our favorite bakery. Jonathan can’t find nearby parking so he just pulls up and we hop out. They can both unbuckle and unload themselves in a blink now. It’s weird and wonderful all at once.

The menu at the bakery is scant for Friday, but we still manage to snag a salted chocolate chip cookie, an orange zest cinnamon roll, a chocolate buckwheat cookie and a carrot cake muffin. 

Phase one of the day: complete. 

We climbed back in the car and one child immediately asked for their pastry. The other says they will be saving theirs for later. As their mom, I know this is a microcosm of their individual personalities. 

The store where I plan to look for jeans is an additional 11 minutes away. We head there and arrive 15 minutes before it opens. We visited a nearby LEGO store and then a Squishmallow store (I didn’t even know those existed) while we waited for my store to open. It finally does and we make our way there.  

I shop for clothes once or twice a year. This isn’t some kind of humble-brag about my good budgeting. I literally detest shopping for clothes and have my whole life. My sisters used to take me to the mall and I would sit in the fitting room with headphones in listening to my mp3 player. But much like the necessity of grocery shopping, one must go clothes shopping sometimes. And sometimes, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. 

Sometimes you find exactly the jeans you were looking for. 

Full disclosure: they were expensive. I only invest in good denim every 5-7 years and wear them until they fall apart. Also, this pair desperately needs to be broken in. The jean experts I’ve learned from tell me new jeans should be snug and I definitely feel that with these. My waist still tells the story of growing and birthing two whole humans. Regardless, these jeans are my new bff. My wardrobe feels like it’s opened up in a whole new way just by investing in one new addition to it. 

We head back out to the car and Jonathan asks if I want to visit a greenhouse nearby. 

Reader: I always want to visit any greenhouse within any vicinity. And especially after constantly reminding two kids to “look, but don’t touch” for the past 35 minutes in a tiny, stuffy clothes shop. They needed somewhere to burn off pent up energy. I needed somewhere to decompress near nature. I propose that every shopping trip should require a visit to a plant nursery immediately afterwards.

After The Great Denim Success and the Greenhouse Romp we were famished. Breakfast had been skimped on in our mad rush to get out the door. Jonathan found a random taco truck on Google minutes away. It’s next to a gas station which—if you know anything about proper tacos—is the best place to find a taco truck. 

We order quesadillas for the kids and tacos al pastor for ourselves. Jonathan and I are always going to go for tacos al pastor if they’re on the menu. Everytime. We weren’t disappointed. 

Overhead, clouds billow up—ephemeral fortresses rising and falling like empires under the sun. We found a shade tree and an empty picnic table. Jonathan took the kids inside the gas station to pick out drinks. I stayed behind to wait for the food. My daughter left me with her dragon, Marshmallow, and gave instructions to “pet her every 2 minutes.” Not that long ago the mom-instructions would’ve been “feed the baby every two hours.”

On the way home I think about how long their legs look these days, how the season of schlepping diaper bags and burp cloths are behind us, how Jonathan and I keep finding gray hairs on our heads. People say that time is a thief. I think about all that time has given me. 

My life isn’t extraordinary or unique. On any given day thousands of women are out there watching their babies turn into kids or hoping to find the perfect pair of jeans or just wanting a slow day to sit under an open sky and eat good food with people they love.

I never want to miss what the last ten years of being a mom have given me: a body that needs loose jeans, eyes wide open to witness two people being humans for the first time and a tired, thankful heart for all we get to experience together.

I never want to miss the miracle of that.

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