Anyway. Because of all the running around trying to get phone repaired/new one/annoying/stupid stuff--we happened to have two cars out near the mall. We were doing that come-from-work-car-juggling thing. This actually has NOTHING to do with what I wanted to actually write about, butttttt...I'm laying the story foundation. Bear with me.
On the way home from getting my new phone on Saturday around lunchtime, we stopped and picked up Declan's car. Of course I jumped at the chance to drive his car home (in peace, sans children), and also opted for a few errands on the way home. A momma's gotta do what a momma needs to do.
Honestly? I just had to return a phone case that I didn't like to Best Buy. But on the way, I realized my rings needed to be inspected by the jeweler, and well, it's right here so let's do it. I popped in thinking this would be no big deal, fast, in and out type thing--like it normally is.
Did you know it's almost Valentines day? No? Well, I'm warning you that jewelry stores are nuts. Recession? What recession? Wouldn't have known it on Saturday.
I waited my turn.
Without kids? Waiting is no big deal.
With kids? I would have wanted to pull my hair out.
After about 20'ish minutes someone got to me. I started to tell her how I just wanted to get my rings inspected and cleaned, and here sign my card so I can leave and do more errands, please and thank you!
She was all, Honey-child, your rings are too big! You're gonna lose them.
I told her I was aware, but I had just had them sized down multiple sizes right before getting pregnant with my last baby, and I was at a good weight, and well--I just didn't want to have to do it again.
But then she told me I really, really needed to do it, and get them re-dipped at the same time. And I'm a sucker so I'm all ooook, fine. Plus it's free with my lifetime guarantee. So it's not really a huge deal except the annoyance of being sans rings for two weeks, you know?
So she proceeds to get out the big ring of rings thing. For sizing.
I start slipping them on my fingers thinking like nahhh this isn't going to fit. Then it does. Then the next one smaller, etc. And this is when I'm realizing that holy cow, my fingers are kind of average size now.
My rings needed to go down another half size, in fact, even 3/4 of a size down would have been just fine (but I always lean to the safe side, and think about summer-heat-swelling...yuck).
She grabs a bundle of rings out of the glass case, a beautiful little princess cut antique ring with a wedding band attached, too. And said, here, this is what a size 7 will feel like with multiple rings. She slid it on my finger like it was nothing. In fact, it was still a little big.
I stopped. I stared at pretty blingy ring on my finger. I did that thing where you hold your hand out and admire pretty ring. And I think, for a moment, my eyes got a little watery. I had to blink through what felt like oncoming tears so the sales lady wasn't all what in the world? about me.
You see---I've always had fat fingers. AKA: the rest of my body was overweight and so were my hands. When Declan and I went ring shopping to look at engagement options umpteen thousand years ago, I was the girl who couldn't actually try on rings because they only slid down halfway. It was embarrassing. Oh how I just wanted so badly to be the girl who fit the rings right out of the glass cabinet, who could do the extend-the-arm-and-admire-the-ring action. But I couldn't. I was the girl that had to get hers sized up (a lot). I just wanted to be the cabinet-ring-size.
I know in reality, it sounds kind of stupid. And although in my head, I know that I've lost so much weight from where I came from years ago. And I've done a really great job losing it after Lucy, too (I'm actually my lowest weight yet, hollaaa!). But sometimes, you still see yourself as the fat girl.
This little ring thing? While it might sound silly to some, it was just one of those moments that was a reminder of how far I've come.
Sometimes I wonder why I couldn't have kicked my butt into gear a year before my wedding. I admit, I don't love looking at my wedding photos because of this. But all that matters is at some point, I had my Get-it-Together, Katie moment. And I did.
That shiny, out-of-the-glass-cabinet ring? That reminded me of that. And I let myself be proud.