I’ve never been blessed with a voluptuous chest. Speaking of voluptuous, don’t you absolutely HATE IT when people say “vo-LUMP-tous?” God, that drives me nuts. Anyway, I’ve always had the hips, the ass, the whole lower part of my body as the curvy part of me, which in my opinion, threw me completely out of proportion. Not now. I mean, of course, the lower half of me is growing, mainly in the tummy area, but we all know that. But the boobs! The boobs are AMAZING. I have them. They are there and they are proud. I am boobilicious.
I had to buy new bras, not once, but twice. The latest one I bought not even two weeks ago is easily becoming too small. It’s a 38C. I can’t imagine how much bigger the upper half of my body could possibly get. That might not seem large at all, but I normally do fine in a 36B. But as they say, “the cupeth runeth over,” which translates to “I have HUGE TITS.” I can’t even imagine what these suckers are going to look like once I’m breastfeeding. It’s no wonder some women breastfeed until their kid goes to kindergarten… they like having a nice rack. I, however, will not breastfeed THAT long. Cause, ew.
Sadly, I’ve heard that once you give up breastfeeding, your boobs deflate to even smaller than what they were pre-pregnancy. Now THAT’S sad. Women really do get the shit end of the deal with their bodies. Then men expect us to look all hot and shit. First of all, I’m completely ruining any abdominal muscles that I once had, every part of my body is growing to outrageous proportions, including my already big ass, then my boobs are going to deflate. It’s going to take a lot of aerobics to get me back to normal E-Lo size, IF I even get the chance between working full time, keeping my house in shape, doing laundry, cooking dinner, AND chasing around an infant (luckily they’re not very mobile for a while). Then you have to worry about people saying, “wow, she really let herself go.”
Excuse me, my body issues are coming out again. Back to the boobs.
One thing I’ll never get over is my mother continually telling me “your boobs are getting BIG!” Now that is scary.
You’d think I was turning into Dooce here with all this poop and boob talk. I guess this is what happens when you get pregnant. I happily accept if it means these BOOBS.
Now here are my answers to Fleece’s questions:
If you could be the boss of one of your former bosses, who would you pick to boss around and why? And how many times have I used 'boss' in this question?
This is a good one. I’d have to pick the general manager of the Butler Eagle, where I worked for 3 months after graduating. I hated it there (surprise! I hated a job!) so I found a much better job (one that I RARELY hated, although it had it’s moments) as a graphic designer at a little print shop. When I announced that I was putting my 2 weeks in to my immediate supervisor, he was cool about it and said he was sad to see me go. Later that morning, the newspaper’s entire computer system went down, which would delay everything in the production of the day’s paper. For some reason, my supervisor picked that exact moment to tell our general manager, who was running around the office like a chicken with his head cut off, that I was leaving. In his anger over everything, he called my new employer and told basically told them that he would never do business with them again, blah blah, how dare they STEAL one of their employees, blah blah, they’re never going to help them out, blah blah. I found this out at the end of the day, when I went to my new job to fill out paperwork and do some training. My new boss was laughing his ass off about it, which I was happy about, but I was INFURIATED at the immaturity of this man. What kind of general manager acts like that? And you said “boss” 3 times, 4 if you include the last part of the question.
What is more important to you -- lifelong contentment or a rollercoaster of highs and lows?
Well, I’ve been on the rollercoaster of highs and lows for a long time now, so lifelong contentment sounds pretty darn good. If I were truly content, then I’d never be bored with life, so a rollercoaster wouldn’t seem so important to me.
You have to say a particular word at the end of each sentence -- what would yours be, and why?
Meow. Just because it would be funny. Meow.
As a mother-to-be, what question do you wish your baby would answer for you right now?
Only one? Probably, “are you a boy or a girl?” Inquiring minds want to know. Plus I have names picked out, so I’d know what to call it. And I could quit calling it “it.” Or Fuzzball.
Would you rather your entire house be painted just one color but have it done in a day, perfect paintjob? Or have each room decorated in exactly the way you like but have it done over a year?
Baby, I NEED variety! I’d do it the way I wanted but have it take a year. Because I’ve waited longer than that to get it painted. Speaking of which, we are starting to paint this weekend. Think we’ll get done before November? I don’t think so.