Monday, 6 December 2010

The Girls are back!

Finally. I've been waiting for almost 4 months. I thought they might be gone forever after the last time. I am happy to say, though, that a comeback has occurred.

The Girls are back. I have breasts again!

Anyone who tells you that pregnancy and breastfeeding don't ruin your boobs is telling a bold-faced lie. No matter how solid, how perky, how dense your boobs once were, after a year of sudden expansion and a few months of insane engorgement, they don't have a chance. I was even known *ahem* in some circles for having amazingly, particularly perky, dense boobs. Relatively little, perhaps, but they packed a good punch, they were good'uns. The aftermath of 5 months breastfeeding though, I mean, it was a shock. You know things aren't going to be the same ever again, generally, all over your whole entire self, but the breast transformation was the most dramatic. What were once Proud Young Ladies had suddenly become useless empty bags, at once devoid of their purpose; Great Saggy Aunties. Both shocking, and a bit disappointing. They looked so....sad. So deflated. Literally.

I am not against breatfeeding at all, I breastfed both of my children and I'll do it again. I mean, hey, I have already destroyed any chance at preserving the look of my breasts, they're toast already - might as well have another go. Besides that I know it's the right thing etc etc just like all the government advice says so. But, if you are cosmetically inclined in that way, consider yourself warned: Breastfeeding Makes For Empty Saggy Sacks, They Will Never Ever Come Back. If I had known that, really known that prior to breastfeeding my first baby, I still wouldn't have decided differently. I still would have breastfed as long as I could. But at least it wouldn't have been such a shock once it was all over.

I will thus really enjoy my time again now with my big full breasts. They look A-mazing. I am so pleased they have come back to spend some time with me. I am taking good care of them as well; oiling them twice a day, holding them up in my good bras. I need to savour every last moment before they say goodbye again. It is a shame actually that my husband is not here to see me in my blooming state; breasts looking as good as they ever have, full body oiling every night, it's like a teenage fantasy! Poor fellow is missing out. I even ordered the Rolls Royce of body oil, the oft-spoken about Bio Oil. It's good stuff. It has some sort of cosmic amoebic quality to it, and the peachy pink colour is a nice bonus. My husband will like the smell better too - previously I used the Mama Mio oil which he said I reeked like a Grandmother's undies drawer, and then I tried the Palmers cocoa butter oil, which he said I reeked like a chocolate Lush soap outlet...

Anyway, when other than pregnancy does anyone bother to religiously oil themselves? Never. My husband better appreciate my voluptuous oiled physique upon his return. It will be worth the flight!

The only problem with all the oiling is my bed is inadvertently getting oiled as well. I had got into the habit of sleeping with no PJs (which started back when my husband and I were young and reckless!) and now wearing pajamas is sooooo squiggly and uncomfortable, material bunching, shirt riding up, legs twisting...I can't go back. So even by myself now I am sleeping pajama-less. I try to do some running around post-oiling pre-bed to let myself soak in. I must look so silly, carting around nude, tidying toys and hanging clothes, it's just as well no one is home. The no PJs has also led to some further challenges, now I am up in the night dealing with the kids. Firstly, it's freezing! Secondly, I feel quite silly, tending to the kids nude - which might entail sitting on the bathtub in the dark watching my older son poo at 2 am, fetching Calpol from the spare room, hanging over the side of the cot shhh-patting the little one back to sleep for 20 minutes at a time. What a silly scene. And this morning my older son insisted he had to have breakfast immediately, was crying and went trailing behind into the kitchen (nude)....discovering there was no milk left in the I had to go outside in the freezing cold (nude) to the garage [I had put my coat on at least, so no actual streaking into the back garden, but I felt ridiculous wearing just a coat and my red crocs and going outside to get a case of milk from the garage at 6:45 am]. The only other time I ended up doing some actual streaking outside my house is when I had gone to get my jeans hemmed by a lady in the village, and thought I was really clever and wore the jeans I wanted done to her place...but then had no bottoms to wear home (!). That was a quick scurry from the car to my front door. Maybe I should give pajamas another go.

Well, my Beautiful Breast Comeback has occurred just in time for my husband's Christmas Visit Comeback, the lucky fellow. Welcome home. You have (all) been missed xx

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