I have a feeling that's all going to change pretty soon though.
For starters, I make my return to work in just a little over a week. Yeah, that maternity leave seriously flew by. It's something I'm really, really looking forward to, but also am pretty damn scared about. What if I magically forgot how to do my job in the almost eight weeks I've been off? What if my brain is so permeated with sleep deprivation and baby boogers that I sound like a complete moron when I come back? That's the thing about dedicating your college education to the English language, people kind of expect you to sound the part. Know what's not included in that part? Baby talk. Poopy talk. Booger talk.
Not to mention I just picked up my bridesmaid dress yesterday for my best friend's wedding. I made the really stupid mistake of trying it on. Surprisingly, it zipped, but I wouldn't say it "fit." I'm a few pounds shy of my pre-pregnancy weight which explains the slightly snug waist. Which is fine, I have four months to shed those last straggling pounds, what's panicking me is when the hell I'm going to be able to WORK on said pounds. Before I went and got all knocked up I was going to spin classes two or three times a week at 5 a.m. or running a few miles on my lunch break. But with two kids now, one who would rather scream or stare at my face than sleep, how am I supposed to have enough energy to not just work out at 5 a.m., but to pull my ass out of bed?
By the time a child reaches twoish, you kind of forget how hard newborns are. How chaotic and determined they are to shit (literally) all over your schedule or any plans you thought you'd made.
Maybe I can convince the bride to let me wear a maid of honor moo moo instead?
Which leads me to one last thing.
I'm pretty much over them already. Trust me, I get the allure of big boobs to those of you who don't have them. They're supposed to be all sexified and hot and who doesn't like a little cleavage? Well, ladies, let me tell you, there's a really, really big difference in some peek-a-boo boobage and a mountain range located directly under your chin. Who knew I'd have a built in chin rest?
But let me fill you in on something. Coming from a busty-most-of-her-life gal, I seriously fantasize over having small boobs. If it were up to me (and I was able to lose, say, 50 pounds so they wouldn't look weird on me), I would be like an A cup. The bras are cute, they ALWAYS have those sizes and you can lean forward on a flat surface (like a desk or table) without facing the ever-challenging conundrum of "do I prop them up and give everyone an eyeful or do I shove them under and cut off circulation to my upper body?"
I seriously dream of the day I can get a minimum of two cup sizes sucked out of my chest, JUST so I can get back into the first four letters of the alphabet.
So with a gift card to good ole' Vikki Secrets, I happily grabbed the six different bra styles in my size and scurried off to a changing room to torture my boobs (I mean, try to find them a new home). I kid you not, half of the bras were push-up bras. And not the type that provides the lift a large-chested woman needs, but the kind that has enough padding in it to serve as a pillow for my newborn. Seriously, I'm in triple digits and letters my daughter can't even make it to when she's singing her A-B-E's and we're still padding those?
There was even a bra that promised to add TWO cup sizes to my chest in my already-comical giant size.
Vikki can't be bothered to make cutesy lingerie that my giant-ass boobs will fit into but she went to the trouble to make a bra that can add two cup sizes to my already-crowded chest area?
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