Let me just go on the record that I have huge gazongas. I’m not talking the nice, full voluptuous 36Cs that I had as a senior in high school. No, I have the back-breaking 40DDDs. That’s right ladies; there are three, count them, 1-2-3, in that cup size.
Thank you babies, breastfeeding, and the 60 pounds I’ve packed on since college. They don’t fit in nursing bras that will hold them each separately anywhere near where they previously resided so I’m stuck with the tank-top Target nursing bras that leave me with a uni-boob and two nipples. HAWT!
The tummy and hips aren’t a pretty sight either. I wish I could blame the pains of pregnancy on those two, but my curvature was established long before the buns were in the oven. I have a long torso, about 60 pounds more than I need and one hell of a time trying to find clothes that I feel comfortable in. Gimme a shirt that covers the belly and pants that cover my whale-tale and I’m a happy camper. On most days I’m looking every so chic in my high rise jeans and long t-shirts but damn if I can’t work my high heels and Coach sunglasses.
And this look works fabulously for running to Target or the park, throw in a formal event such as a wedding and I’m screwed! It’s always a struggle to find something more sophisticated to fit my body. Most of the cute tops are a little too low cut for my tastes; I’m ok with showing a little cleavage but I’d rather the cup merely trickle tastefully not runneth over. And as for hiding the tummy, all I have to say is this, Spanx are proof that God is a woman. Formal fashion wear and I are not friends.
A few weeks back there was family event that required a little more pizzazz than my Levis would allow so it was time to break out the formal wear. And wouldn’t you know it, after the space shuttle launch like planning of getting two children and a husband prepared for the 6 hour event, I was left with about 5 minutes to get myself ready. After a quick re-pack of the diaper bag I ran upstairs to throw on the outfit I had planned in my head. Cute flowing skirt, floral print top, ahhh, if only it had been that simple.
Spanx: no where to be found.
Floral print top: majorly stained.
Actual bra minus the nursing flaps: major boob spillage issues.
Damn. What’s a Mommy to do?
Throw on what ever looks/smells clean and let your children do the rest for you.
My children are beautiful. I know, every mommy thinks their children are beautiful way but seriously, mine are stinkin’ cute. The Toddler is a sun-kissed blonde with brown eyes and lashes that curl up to meet the heavens. In high school, I would have hated her.
The Baby is a blue-eyed, drooly puddle of cuteness that smiles with her entire body: eyes light up, nose scrunches in, and her whole body coils before she springs into a giggly jumping bean of grins. You can’t help but beam at her.
The Toddler is nervous in social situations and tends to cling to my waist/hip area completely hiding my ass. The Baby isn’t walking yet and has this way of tucking into my shoulder covering one boob completely giving the impression that I actual have more than just a shelf sitting on top of my chest.
The imperfections of my body are flawlessly hidden with the little perfections that came from my body.
I’ve noticed that with a beautiful baby in someone’s arms and a gorgeous toddler around the leg, no one even looks at the mom anyway. And you know what; I’m totally ok with that.
Originally posted on http://mommysstillfabulous.com/