B-Day

And I'm not talking about a birthday!  Ladies, this blog is for you.  Men, this blog is going to be about lady things.  If lady things make you squirm then stop reading...now.

Ok, so I'm talking about bras.  It's the one thing I've been putting off for a while.  I usually don't mind shopping, if it's recreational.  But when I have to do it, that's another story filled with kicking and screaming.  So I realized that I only had one bra that still fit decently.  After Gabe was born and for the 8 months following while he nursed I wore my nursing bra and that was fine.  However, he stopped nursing...a while ago, yet I'm still wearing a nursing bra and it's starting to go.  And let me tell you, there's nothing more embarassing than going to adjust your bra and accidentally unhooking the nursing flap.  No one needs to see that.  Ugh.  This means I have to go (cue dramatic music) bra shopping.  I don't even have a clue what size I am anymore.  It went up with preganancy and then waaaay down afterwards.  I think I even shriveled up smaller than my pre-pregancy size.  You kids just have no idea!  So I had a couple of shirts to return to Khol's and $20 in Khol's cash that expired tomorrow.  I took it as a sign and reserved myself to go.  I put the kids down for a nap and Mom and I headed out on an adventure. 

We made a couple of other stops first, stalling as long as I possibly could.  But then we arrived at the store and after browsing, I finally made my way over to the bra department.  There is a whole DEPARTMENT dedicated to the torture of women.  This shouldn't be legal.  So I just started grabbing different sizes and styles, because there were about a million (no, seriously, a million) different kinds.  Full coverage, light push up, BAM! push up, underwire, no wire, invisible look, sports, racer back, front closure, back closure, lace, satin, microfiber, cotton and the choices go on and on and on.  That was enough to make me want to go braless for the rest of my life.  Yeah, the big thud you just heard, was Thelma and Louise hitting the floor.  I guess that option's out.  On to the dressing room!  Now starts the real fun.  Either the band was too tight or the cup too small which creates that lovely armpit bulge.  Or the cup was too big and the band small which gives you that oh-so-coveted back bulge.  The straps were either too far out on the shoulders or too far up, almost a halter.  Bras tried on: 10, bras that fit: 0.  On to round two.  I bring back a whole new crop and set to work again.  By this time the skin around my torso is raw from putting on so many bras then having to turn them around and flip them up.  I tried on some Wonderbras, thinking of Mike coming home in December and wanting something a little special.  Yeah, there's really nothing wonderful about them.  There is no amount of water, air or gel that's going to make these puppies look like they never endured pregancy.  That's out.  So I finally come across one bra that doesn't squeeze me in all the wrong places or make me feel like there is a metal rod being shoved into my armpit.  Done.  I get it in white and I'm outta there.

Bras tried on: 20 (give or take one, I lost count), bras that fit: 1 (sort of).  It's not exciting, it's not pretty but it will do the job.  Hopefully for a long time so I don't have to do this again anytime soon.  Is there anything that men have to shop for that they have this much trouble with?  I think not. 

This is the dressing room after round one.  Crazy.