Wednesday, September 26, 2012

This is my life ...

So, Monday, Bruise didn't have his homework folder so I emailed his teacher.

Turns out he turned it in early ... so we were able to reschedule the talk about personal responsibility.

Yesterday, I got the kids off to school and threw on clothes to go to Zumba. I had to get Bubbles from her nap ... which meant that we left without filling her belly. This will come into play in a bit.

At the church, where we do our Zumba, the missionaries were using the Cultural Hall/gym for an activity ... so we were moved to the Primary (children's group) room.
Also, instead of there only being about eight ladies, there were over ten of us (plus a group of around six or seven kids, 6 month - 5 years, playing) all stuffed in the room.

We got through the warm up. We got through almost all of another song ... and I look over to where Bubbles (usually a very happy child) is screaming. (I didn't notice her screaming earlier since another little boy was screaming. Louder.) ... Well, I'm not totally sure what was happening, but she was laying down and another little boy was over her, almost laying on her. Maybe she fell? Maybe he knocked her over trying to kiss her ... Either way, she was MAD and/or scared.

So I go and pick her up. I hold her until she's calmed down. I set her back down for the little playdate ... and she is NOT. HAVING. ANY. OF. THIS. CRAP.

Well, I was being (overly) optimistic and left the Moby wrap in the car. And there's NO WAY that I can hold a 15-lb baby in my arms and jump/do choreographed moves (on carpet, no less).
So ... we left.
And I felt like a bit of a loser.

Because how'm I supposed to lose weight and get in shape at all (since it's OBVIOUSLY NOT GONNA HAPPEN by my friend's wedding in two weeks) if I can't even stay through a whole class?
... especially when I may or may not have eaten ice cream for breakfast. I plead the fifth on that one.

But, yeah. So, even though I've barely done ANYTHING, I'm all flushed and sweating ... and Bubbles and I drop off some books and pick up my hold at the library.
Then we go home and I feed her and put her back in her bed so I can get a shower.

About an hour later, after chatting with a friend online, I load up Bubbles and we head into the next town to go to a bra shop ... since ... okay, here's the deal:

Last week, I decided that I was taking the extender off the back of my nursing bra. I prefer my bands tight, so I can get support. And having that extra inch wasn't helping.
Of course, that made the cups tighter (stupid ratio. Stupid boobs.) ... and I noticed that one of my breasts was REALLY SORE. And I started getting REALLY WORRIED.
I didn't think is was Mastitis (been there, done that, experienced the flu-like symptoms and blood in my milk, took the antibiotics ... where's my merit badge, dang it??), since it wasn't a sharp pain. Just this dull, all-consuming, ache.

Then I wised up, put the stupid extender back on the band ... and, within a day, I was feeling back to normal.

So ... OBVIOUSLY that bra (which is/was my BEST-fitting nursing bra) was not cutting it. Ugh.

Which brings us to going to the bra store...

I had to search for a parking spot, since I was dumb and got there during the lunch hour. Spent WAAAAAY too long circling the blocks to get a parking spot. But I found one ... and Bubbles, who HAD been asleep nearly the whole drive woke up. *sigh*

Still, I threw (figuratively) her carseat into the stroller and walked to the shop.
I was able to get in immediately and the gal there fitted me for a bra.

Unfortunately, I'm busty enough that most companies don't make my size. ... And, when they do make the correct CUP size, it's not paired with the right band size.
Still, there's a little wiggle room (go down a cup size with a larger band size ... it'll still fit. Like buying a size 9 shoe when there's not a 8W, if you follow).

But, I was able to leave with a spendy bra that fits and will look better under the dress I'll be wearing at my friend's wedding.
I was REALLY hoping that they'd have an underwire that'd work, since I kinda NEED the structure to avoid the uniboob look ... but, well, until I lose about two cup sizes ... yeah.
Which leads me to tell you that I am not a fan of my boobs.
My husband likes them ... and they perform their purpose of lactation well ... but, if it weren't for that last one (Sorry, Michael), if I had the opportunity, I'd have them reduced in a second. ... They're in the way and, according to most bra companies, apparently they're freakish in size. ... Yeah. I'm not loving my body right now.

Between my, apparently, freakishly-sized boobs and my fat deposits hanging from my stomach ... Let's just say that I know my friend loves me, since she asked me to be a bridesmaid ... and, in comparison, I'm the largest one there (except not in height ... so I can't be thinking it's just to scale or something).

But, really ... if you can walk into any store, find a bra on the racks, and pay less than $30 for a bra that contains you, let along supports and lifts? ... I almost hate you. I mean, I don't HATE you ... but I'm so very jealous.
I mean, I used to be able to do that ... but not so much at all this last decade.

It's really, really dumb.

And, I realized that the last pair of jeans I bought ... The back pockets are all wrong, so they're not flattering to my butt.

I know, I know. I'm totally whining. I should be very happy to have a body that WORKS ... and, for the most part, it does! Unless I think about it ... or want to feel that I look nice.

There's a REASON why, instead of shopping for clothes, I prefer shoes or nail polish or make-up or hair-colors or books ... because those things look nice regardless of your size.
I've never had to wonder if a book or polish color made my butt look wider or would manage to button over my ginormous rack.

I hate to think that I let myself go after getting married ... but, well, body-wise, there's really no other way to explain it. Unless I suddenly developed some grandular malfunction ... Which, I suppose COULD be the case.

But, really, if I hear ANYONE talking about how awesome it'd be to have big boobs ... I'm going to need help restraining myself from loudly telling her how absolutely and completely stupid that is.
(Seriously, almost every friend I have is smaller than I am ... and if possible, I'd have SHARED THE WEALTH ... GLADLY.)

But, yeah ...
This obviously is one of those posts in which I fail to be very funny. At all.

Still ... one of my BIG problems is that I don't love exercising. Maybe because I never have a proper sports bra that fits well (maybe I should call up the bra shop and see if they've got one?) ...
Still, if you have a workout that you LOVE ... how's about sharing the wealth?

In return, I can offer book recommendations, polish recommendations ... and the like. Or just jokes. I know a few elephant jokes ...

But, really ... I NEED some exercise that I enjoy better than cheesecake and ice cream and Nutella.
Does such a workout exist??

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