Scribbling Dame

Preposterous Pondering.

You don’t even want to know… October 20, 2011

Filed under: Boobs,Mommy Issues — Scribbling Dame @ 12:53 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

Disclaimer: You may hate me a little after this post. Also I am pregnant and very grumpy.

I know this is intended to come from a good place, but one of my pregnancy pet peeves is when people ask, “how are you feeling?” It’s not just that they ask the question. It’s that they ask it like your dog just died. It’s like asking someone in the hospital how they are feeling. Perhaps more annoying than the question, is that I can, nine times out of ten, not actually answer genuinely. I can’t tell my boss or my colleagues how I’m really feeling. It’d sound like this, “I can’t see my vagina anymore. I haven’t shit for a week. I’m tired and don’t want to work anymore. I also feel like a giant stomach even though I am barely starting to show, which makes me terrified of how I will feel when I am actually big. I thought that meeting was total bullshit. Also I hate stupid fucking questions I can’t answer.” That’s the real answer most days, but instead I have to resort to the polite, “A little tired, but otherwise good” response that shows an acceptable amount of suffering but generally a good attitude. I am trying to avoid talking to people as much as possible, since I don’t have a lot of faith in my ability to filter at the moment. Thankfully I can work from home a lot.

I will henceforth let Nicki Minaj tell you how I am feeling.

I will also be really pissed if my boobs are getting bigger, and I think they are. Seriously, I thought a G-cup was big enough to carry over milk to baby #2, but my cleavage is looking pretty deep, confirming my conviction that I really do need to be Dolly Parton for Halloween one of these years, but son-of-a-bitch! I just dropped major coin on some nice bras at Nordstrom, and now I will not only have to buy tarmac-sized nursing bras, but I’ll probably have to get all new bras again. Guess Sofia doesn’t need to go to college–“Sorry honey, you need to get scholarships because Mommy’s tits took over a small island and she had to buy bigger bras from the Army Special Forces to contain them, which ran up a 2 million dollar bill.”

I will end by saying I don’t actually hate people, and where possible, try and appreciate my giant bazooms. Just everything in moderation people…I am off to Taco Bell, because the baby is making me do it.


One Response to “You don’t even want to know…”

  1. tadmack Says:

    Oh, no. I asked my chiropractor until she went off on maternity how she was feeling – and biweekly she probably wanted to strangle me with my spine. My bad. I wanted to not be one of those people who said, “Geez, hon, you look tired!” – but she wasn’t nearly as polite as you. She would say, “I wish I could quit working but not yet. I want to go to home.” (Home for her is her parents’ house – they live in the South of France. Which is where she goes when her boyfriend pisses her off.)

    I laugh at the idea of “the appropriate amount of suffering.” I guess some people do expect something along those lines. My answer to the question, “How are you?” would be, “I feel like dry-roasted crap, that’ll change in about a year. You?”

    And BOY, howdy, do I feel your pain on the bra issue. I am doing weights now in a (vain) effort to tighten up the pecs in hopes (again, vain) that the suckers will support their own weight somehow at least, but the fact remains that even at the smallest size I ever was as an adult, I was a G-cup. My bras will always cost a quarter of the national debt. And you have to buy so many – they actually WEAR OUT. No one else’s bras do that!!! But no, mine creak and occasionally underwire pops out at inopportune times. When you’re at home, try a sports bra top – those are much cheaper, and you can save your good ones for work.

    Good luck, honey. I won’t even ask how craptastic you’re feeling.

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