Dear Yoga Pants

Yoga pants, I remember the day you came into my life. I was swollen, pregnant, sick, chasing after a toddler, while out of town. The out of town trip where I magically grew twice my size till nothing I brought, fit. But there you were yoga pants. Ready to give me comfort and the gift of breathing again. 

Oh yoga pants, we have come through so much. The birth of my little guy, and trips to the niccu. To late night feedings and runs to Target. Remember when it was me and you, for days on end, when the hubby was out of town for months? You gave me so much comfort and made it easy to collapse into bed every night in comfort. Battling toddlers, stomach bugs, and another pregnancy, we got through it together. 

I still laugh at the few times we worked out. What was that about? We both knew we were meant to be together, curled up on the couch, pretending we were watching doc mcstuffins because the kids wanted too. 

Good times yoga pants, good times. 

Oh yoga pants, I guess it was too much for you. To much togetherness, to many days changing diapers, kissing boo boos,  cleaning the house, pretending to be 'active'. Yoga pants, it's time for you to go. You have be worn with love and dedication, what more can a pair of pants ask for? After all, the holes across the rear shows our battle scars, and shows my undies, which is why your now sitting in the bottom of the trash can. 

Because really no one wants a toddler poking them in the butt laughing at their undies, all day. 

So good bye old friend, it's been a ride.