Saturday, October 1, 2005

The Clothes Whisperer

8 is the number of times I have now gone maternity clothes shopping with Page. In about 6 months it will be the same number of times I will have gone post-pregnancy shopping with Page. In about 6 months from that it will be the number of times that I will have gone back-to-her- smallness clothes shopping with Page.
For reasons I shan't go into, I must tell you that the task is arduous. Nevertheless it suffices me to say that I take the commandment "Thou Shalt Support Your Sister In All of Her Pregnancies" quite seriously. Even if it means trips to Ch-Ch-Ch-(Good Gravy) Chicos. There, I said it.
As a supporting sister, I didn't do such a great job with her 6th pregnancy and heaven knows he has suffered for it. Poor Seth, he has such trouble saying his r's. I can't help but think it was the malaligned maternity wardrobe. I hope to remedy that situation one day.
In the meantime, I spent hours with Page last night, bouncing from store to store, taking intercessory phone calls from a gratuitous Vance "Courtney you don't know how much this means to me...and Page." He knows how hard the journey is (everything has to match everything else, with no room for a slight shade off. If Page could only summon "Units" her dream store from the 80's...).
The ladies that help us are always astounded that my whisp of a sister could possibly be on her 8th. They always say "Now, is this your 1st?" and because Page gets so embarrassed I always say, "Actually it's her_____ (enter # there)" It got awesome responses when she lived in San Francisco where people actually birth 1.5 babies. After they make such a big deal of my sister, the Ever Fertile Madonna Of The Upper East Bench, they pat me on the head and mutter something about me being a nice sister for helping such an important sister in her time of need. That need being super cute maternity clothes.
I don't mind because I know the blessings that await me. And I don't mean those in heaven (which I am sure await me as well). At the end of the night we always retire to Page's yellow suite of a bedroom where red covered boxes await me.
"Well hello cute orange button down from Anthropologie" I whisper upon opening the box. "I knew Mommy should've purchased you! Now that Mommy is getting a big belly you get to come live with me for 6-months-to-a-year!"
"Oh hi pink pants, you cute thang! Auntie Courtney wanted your Mommy to buy you, but she was so apprehensive! So Auntie Courtney had to practically beg. Your auntie may have even fibbed a bit and told your Mommy she looked better in you than was probably true."
"Black turtle neck, how are you? I have a hot pink skirt, just rescued from the summer box at home, who just can't wait to meet you."
And on it goes until I have removed all of Page's new maternity clothes out of their sacks in order to have the means to transport all of my pre-owned clothes home.
0 is the number of dollars I had to spend on my new fall wardrobe. I wish Page got pregnant more often.