Thursday, October 28, 2010

Mom Cow

So this one is gonna be pretty mom-centric.
Check that, this one is gonna be pretty boob centric. The mom part is actually secondary to my afternoon.
Yesterday at the end of the day I headed toward the mall. My wedding ring and engagement ring were ready at the jewelers Got them sodered (sp?) together and they look great. Right across from the jewelery store is a Motherhood Maternity store.
Now - nothing like taking a short walk from all the glitz and glamour of the blingy-ness of Josephs (the store, not the husband) to the elastic-y, over sized delight that is a maternity store.
The reason for said detour ..
and for the love of all that is holy, NO
NO
and
HELLS TO THE NO.

Needed a new nursing bra and there are few in town that sell them for anything resembling a reasonable price.
Let me offer up a few observations here.
I am, shall we say -- a healthy woman. Have been for some time. Ever since I put on that Freshman 15 (or 25), I have been well endowed in the "girls" department.
And I recognize that this is one of those things that is going to send you one way or the other. The bigger girls rarely want to be bigger. Nothing like never being able to buy a button-up shirt. Or having to get all your dresses altered so that you can get one that fits your chest and doesn't leave you swimming everywhere else.
The only exception to this rule, are the people that PAY for their boobs to be that big.
And for the women that are smaller - its the opposite. They all want what they don't have.
For the record, I would give it up in a heartbeat.

Now - take that large proportion and throw two pregnancies on there,
Yeah.
Exactly.

A few weeks ago, I actually went and got measured so I knew how big I was. And it wasn't horrible.
Back to the maternity store.
I went in yesterday, grabbed my size, paid and out the door I went.
Went home and promptly put all my bras in the wash - because well, I had a new, clean one.
Fast forward  to this morning. Or is it rewind at this point.
Dunno - space/time continuum was never my thing.

This morning - running around like a chicken with her proverbial head cut off. We still haven't mastered the art of getting everyone out the door in a timely fashion. With me being the worst offender in that pool.
So there I was - pants on, no make-up, hair wet, one kid dressed, the other running around yelling "Big Truck" at the top of his lungs {toddler translation: Mom, I want to watch 'Cars'}, Joe watching the re-cap of the Giants World Series game on SportsCenter - even though he had watched the whole game the night before and I grab my new, not-so-small bra.
And viola - was I looking at a great silhouette with ever so perky, upright and contained boobs??
No - my boobs were somewhat contained, but mostly spilling out the bottom and the top of the bra.
And all my other bras - drying on the rack, but decidely wet.
Which meant that the two times today that I needed to pump at work (in the health room, not at my desk -- even I have standards) I had to fully take off my top and bra and then re-work the whole thing.

Which brings me BACK to the maternity store over lunch. Bra in hand, I tell her - listen this is my size, but in no universe I know of is this a (insert bra size here). She then offers up to re-measure me. And what do you know, she comes up with the same size that I was measuring 3 weeks ago.
Big surprise.
"Well" says the sales clerk - "sometimes maternity bras run a little different from regular bras"
Like, maybe they have figured out the time/space continum and inches in this world are different than inches in maternity world.
Or maybe she is full of it.
All I know is that after all of that, I tried on the bras before I left with a new one and ended up with one that was 2 sizes bigger in inches and 2 cup sizes bigger.
Like I didn't feel big enough before - now I am in like, no-mans land for bra sizes. Had I gone one more cup size up, I would have been sent to a speciality store - as they don't carry anything beyond that size.
That will always help the old ego...
Like the pump doesn't make you feel mom-cow enough, add to it the gi-normous bra size.
Preeeety.
Or not.

Now Watching: Game 2 of the World Series.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

The Re-Birth of Slick

Yeah. Hi.
It's Meghan here.
Not the Meghan of old. Alas, my reader (if there is a single one left), my swinging, rock-star, devil-may-care, snark-a-licious single days are now "officially" behind me. And therefore, I present to you RedHead Ramblings - the re-launch.

I am now a a little older, a little heavier around the middle than I care to admit, a  married woman (details later) and mother of two. This has changed the game a little bit.
What it has not changed is my snark-a-licious ways, biting wit and general need to provide a running commentary on all that I see in my little corner of the world. Oh, and with some help from the hairdresser -- still very much a redhead, and all that comes with it.
I have missed my ramblings. Too much bouncing around in my noggin to not get it out somewhere.
Not that I have been resting on my laurels, eating bon-bons and watching soap operas. A brief breakdown of the last 8-10 months:
Having a baby - check
Planning a wedding - check
Actually going through it and getting married - check
Chasing a toddler with two speeds (on/off) around - check
Working a full time job - check

Decided that since I had all that done, it was time to get back on the blogosphere horse.
Not sure exactly where this new path is going to take me. I am sure there are better ways for me to be spending my time - see the mountain of laundry and utter chaos that is my house. But here I am anyway. New angle on the world - like how you can love a child practically to tears one minute, and want to turf them out to the first stranger you see on the street the next. Same with your husband.
So dear reader (whomever of you are still around) - stay patient. Like riding a bike, it will all come back to me. Today is the first step.


Now Listening: Cease to Begin by Band of Horses