My mom and I chatted again this weekend, congratulating each other on our weight loss and her blood sugar (97 in the morning. Woo hoo!), when she mentioned how happy she was that her green, Sears pants fit again. They’re a size 24. Color me surprised.
Now, I currently weigh only 4 more pounds than her and I’m 2 inches taller to boot. Between that and our obvious hereditary similarities you’d think we’d be wearing the same size pants, right? Wrong! Even though my BMI is lower than hers, I am still wearing size 28 pants. I am so jealous and feel a bit genetically screwed. On the positive side, I can currently wear either a 14/16 or 18/20 top, mostly depending on how stretchy the fabric is, whereas she’s still in 20/22.
So, I guess this goes to show I really am a pear shaped woman. Even when I get down to my goal weight, I can probably only hope to fit into size 12, maybe 10, jeans. Thus is my fate in life.