The Daddy person is working late this week. I hate late weeks. It throws K’s schedule off horribly. He’ll be home around bedtime, which in her sweet little mind apparently means – bedtime is way later, thanks Dad! It’s rough for all of us. I’ll be so thankful when we move and he hopefully finds a less demanding job.
Which brings me to this post – that and the little is actually playing and not requiring my full on attention. I work full time in an interesting job. Job shall remain nameless due to confidentiality reasons. Job means I’m responsible for the lives and well beings of little people. And that is stressful. Hence the blog. It used to be fun to ramble and whine when I was younger and didn’t have to be a grown up. Maybe grown up blogging will prove to be cathartic too.
Last weekend, I ventured to the mall while we were away for the weekend to try and find something for Sam for Father’s Day. His typical request is tools. A storm was coming in so I opted for Sears instead of Lowe’s (which would have been further.) Much to my surprise, Victoria’s Secret was having their semi-annual sale.
First off, I should mention I hate shopping. I hate trying on clothes. I don’t generally like malls and won’t go into stores unless I know what I want and where exactly to go to get it. And 99% of the time I refuse to buy anything that is not on sale.
But as a treat to myself and my poor breastfeeding overloaded breasts I decided I could probably rationalize buying a new overpriced bra, or two.
I found two on the sales rack. Tried them on. Hello boobs! Where have you been the past 4 years?
Ironically enough – when I stopped having let down frequently, I also bought some fancy VS bras to celebrate. I couldn’t even tell you where they are now. I digress.
Anyway – I buy these two new bras. One is white, the other hot pink with weird cream lace. And I’m proud of myself.
I attempt to wear one when we go out on “date night” and end up having to readjust my shirt continuously because the bra continues to be visible. Frustrating. But it definitely produced some nice cleavage, so I won’t complain much.
I wore one to work today. I could not wait to get home and get that puppy off. At times I feel like I can’t breath. My boobs look great, youthful even. But the not breathing is a serious issue. I stood in front of the mirror for a moment and admired the boobs. They were never big. The only time they got above a C cup was right after K was born when my milk came in. They were DD for a couple of glorious weeks.
Now they are just a deflated B and my nipples look like they’ve been in a torture device for years. Oh, extended breastfeeding.
I took the bra off and literally gasped as I watched them fall. My breasts are saggy. SAGGY. I am not old enough for saggy, deflated boobs.
At least K loves her “nummy” and Sam is pretty indifferent, so saggy is a-okay in this house!
But wow. Between motherhood and work I feel so old. I hate that I feel old.
I guess the moral of the story is that I didn’t really have boobs before I got pregnant. I didn’t really have boobs while I was pregnant. I had some amount of bigger boobs immediately after giving birth and now I’m back to almost no boobs at all. Ah, the circle of life 🙂
At least my kiddo has a kick ass immune system and we get a lot of bonding time in even though she’s almost 4 going on 40. I suppose I can sacrifice my boobs for that.