wrangling the girls, or acquiring an underwire

for my male readers, a word of warning, this is going to be a post about boobs, and maybe not in the romantic, sexy way, so you might want to just skip this one.

still here?  i will proceed.

i think it goes without saying (even though here i go saying it) that women often have body issues.  too big, too small, too wide, too narrow….whatever we got, we likely crave something else.

as a woman come late to motherhood, it was an interesting experience to use my body for something completely different.  i mean, i grew two human beings and then delivered them to the world.  i also magically generated the perfect food for them, dispensed it at will, at the perfect temperature.  and not just short term, for years!

did this make me love my body?  if anything it confused things.  how could i look at myself in the mirror and think “ick,” while at the same time being so grateful for what my body has done for me?

i have been pregnant or nursing for over three years now.  at 41 things are not as resilient as they once were, so you would be right to suspect that things might be a little stretched out and saggy.

it is somewhat bewildering to me that the girls could be simultaneously huge and flacid, but it is what it is.  what exactly is my point?  well, there was a recent and amazing deal on schnoop.  TWO playtex nursing bras for $15.  two for $15???  after 3+ years my nursing bras are shabby to say the least, so i jumped on that deal.

my FOUR (it was a really good deal, ok?) bras arrived lightning fast.  38DD (wow, remember when i whined that i was an A cup at 16?  those were the days) and underwire.  hmmmmm, underwire?  i used to wear underwires all the time right?  back in the day when i got dressed and went to work like a grownup.

i don’t remember it being quite this torturous though.  the girls have clearly been soft pedaled to too long and don’t really enjoy being lifted and separated the way they once did.  on the flip side though, people keep asking me if i have lost weight, maybe because my generous busom is closer to my neck than my bellybutton?

my other theory is that the wires are lifting the girls into such an artificial state of perkiness that a tent-like effect is being generated with my shirts, disguising my saggy tummy.

it also supports my suspicion that the more painful your beauty routine, your shoes, your support garments, the better you look to other people.