Throw Pillows, Jeans, and Spiritual Disciplines

Last week I read a post by Emily Freeman over at Chatting at the Sky about the spiritual discipline of wearing pants that actually fit. She wrote about how she realized that wearing ill fitting pants made her grouchy and prone to negativity, while simply putting on better pants helped her be kinder, both to others and to herself.

The Man and I made Vietnamese spring rolls for our date night last week.
Good company and good food.

Naturally, I immediately decided that I may need to practice the spiritual discipline of just going to the bathroom when I need to.

You guys, the struggle is real. But I also know that the longer I put off that little trip, the harder it is to respond with patience and love to myself and to those around me. Especially when my bladder is being sat on by at least one child at all times. Let's be honest: there's only so much of me to go around.

They slay me.

Then on Monday I decided that I was going to practice the spiritual disciplines of using my birthday gift cards and buying things that make me happy and getting rid of things that make my skin crawl (you didn't know all these things were spiritual disciplines, did you?), so I went to World Market and finally replaced the ugly, brown, fringed throw pillows that I have hated with every fiber of my being for the last 3.5 years that they have taken up residence in my home.


There is a lot of blue, green, and grey happiness on my couches now. Sarah (she who was both Plain and Tall) would approve.

I approve that I'm no longer chasing down loose pieces of fringe everywhere.

How did this happen?
My kids aren't old enough for this!

Then my hard drive decided to die on my laptop (which is why your life was without the meaning and purpose my blog provides), so I had to schedule a late evening appointment at the Genius Bar, and when I was finished, I decided to go shopping without the kids (which was amazing). And lo and behold, my conscience said unto me, "Marian, you too need to practice the spiritual discipline of better pants."

Which is true, because I've been wearing the same pair of jeans since September and making due with the occasional dress and tights combo when they're in the wash. Not only that but said jeans have gotten awfully loose in the waist, which I blame on this great thing called "dog corseting", which is where you tie your dog's leash around your waist so you have enough hands to push swings and hold babies and throw footballs while out with your abundance of children, and then the dog (who can't heel to save his life) yanks the leash emphatically, tightening it until you can't breathe but can finally simulate some kind of a waist in your body, which may or may not have all the curves of a cardboard refrigerator box.

You should know that when I was growing up, I used to practice "pencil dimpling" while I read. For the amount of time I spent reading as a child, you would think that the pencil would have done a better job of fixing my dimple-less cheeks. So far, "dog corseting" is working much better for me.

I made a super cool tent for the kids.
It was the high point of an epically awful day of screaming.
Teething sucks. Tents are awesome.

Anyway, I listened to my conscience (and the Man who has been reminding me lovingly that woman cannot live with one pair of jeans alone) and went shopping, and my life may never be the same again. It's amazing how much better jeans fit when you actually spend real money on them! Thankfully there was a sale and I put the Man's military discount to good use because otherwise I'm not sure my frugal side could've stomached the intense shelling out of money that had to happen in order for me to have jeans that didn't leave a good inch or so of ankle exposed.

I'm waiting to see if wearing better jeans (and not having to pull jeans out of the dryer while they are still damp just so that I have something to wear) will help me in my spiritual walk, but at the very least, I can say that my ankles are nice and warm.

Did I mention how terrifying it is that these twins are getting so big?

I know that jeans and throw pillows may not cure cancer or solve world hunger, but I'm learning that there is some merit in doing the small things, whether that's taking the bag of dirty diapers downstairs or finishing the email you've been procrastinating on or making a little space for beauty in your home (and your closet).

Those things that we've been putting off? Maybe tackling just one item will get the ball rolling so we can knock off a few more. And maybe (I said maybe) changing out the throw pillows you hate will end with a creative solution for world peace.