BOOBS!
I thought the title of this post should prepare you for the overall junior-high tone that will follow.
Under clothing - a nice, sensible nursing bra, thick bra pads, and a roomy shirt - my boobs look quite good right now. They're a big D during the day. At night - well, they're something else.
But naked, that's a whole 'nother story.
The girls are suffering. Truly. I grew a few stretchmarks right off the bat with my land speed record milk arrival at less than 48 hours post delivery. They were on the underside, toward the middle. One on each breast was particularly scary, but all in all, about what you'd expect.
I sprouted a few more as my milk supply increased with Hannah's growth spurts. But the new size was still appealing enough for me to be pretty happy with the overall outcome.
Then, as Hannah began sleeping through the night, things got ugly. Ugly with a capital UGH. I hatched new stretch marks quite literally OVERNIGHT. That's right - woke up, took off the bra to shower, and said, "SHIT! Where did those come from!" I did this on multiple occassions.
Now the sagging is setting in. As is my sadness. I can see the future, and it ain't pretty. I'll be fine so long as I'm breast feeding, but when the day comes to wean Hannah, my tits are going to be one sore sight.
I used to think plastic surgery was pretty high up there on the useless vanity scale. But now, I'm beginning to see the light. I can see how one could contemplate getting those puppies reinflated - or at least relocated - after one was finished having children. One might prefer fake ones to flappy ones.
But then I think about setting an example for Hannah. Would I be sending her the wrong message by caring enough about my naked boobs to undergo surgery?
Hm.
Let's close with a rousing rendition of "Do Your Boobs Hang Low?"
DOOOOO your boobs hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot?
Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Can you throw them over your shoulder, like a Continental Soldier?
Do your BOOOOB HAAAANG LOOOOOOOOOW?!
