So some girls live their whole lives looking at the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue saying - I wish I had a chest like that. I wish I could fill out those cups like that. I wish I could hold up that strapless dress. Well girls, let me tell you. It's no picnic. My whole life I've looked at those little B cuppers and thought, wow, how nice would that be. What if I could run without actually injuring myself?!? What if I could wear one of those shelf bra tanks and the shelf bra was enough support? What if I could skip all the boob spillage and cleavage all over everywhere?!?!
After I had Andy things were just off the hook. I honestly don't know what letter but let's just say it was further along in the ABC song than regular stores carry.
Then Abby came along and - whoa. Stop the presses, I didn't think it could get BIGGER. Well, I knew that Dolly Parton and lots of porn stars existed but STILL. I rationalized the bigness for myself, saying that when I finished breast feeding they would shrink. That I really DID like buying bras only at Lane Bryant and that I wasn't sad that I no longer was privy to Victoria's Secret.
Well guess what. I swear half the 30 plus pounds I've lost in the last 9 weeks eating Seattle Sutton meals has been in the boob region. Seriously.
NOW HEAR THIS:
This day is brought to you by the letter D and I AM SO HAPPY.
C is not for cookie, it is for my goal cup size. (sorry Steve) WOOT! Go me.
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