Boobs
I had my first mammogram today. It was a little weird having someone position your boob into the machine that squishes it for a picture. Still, I'd take that over a colonoscopy any day, yuk. My nurse talked and talked and talked. As she explained what she was doing, she referred to my boobs as average size. How about that, Average! I knew they've grown after 2 kids and 15 pounds (give or take), still I thought they were well below average.
In junior high, boys said I was President of the Itty Bitty Tiddy Committee. Their ring leader used to torture me about size on the bus ride home from school each day. He'd say stupid things like you've got mosquito bites on your chest, let me scratch them for you. Most of my friends had grown boobs but I was still waiting. Because of my flat chest, I hated the way I looked. I prayed, quoted scripture (desire of my heart one) and even tried to use the Word of Faith message for bigger Boobs to appear on my chest.
I miraculously started 8th grade with boobs, thanks to Mom introducing me to padded bra's. It worked great until I was invited to a swim party. Mom came to the rescue once again with a padded swimsuit. It looked funny with zero cleavage but you know it doesn't take much to fool stupid junior high boys.
Through my teens and 20's, boob job ranked right up there with the need to eat, breath and sleep. In between the birth of Little Man and Baby Girl, a friend who was about my size had a boob job after giving birth to her second and final child. Shortly afterwards, she proudly flashed my friend and I. She looked great and I was more determined than ever to have one as soon as possible. The cost of the surgery kept coming down so I figured by the time I was done having babies, I would be able to afford one. too. I honestly thought that bigger boobs would make my life better, is that not crazy!
It's funny how age, children and I guess just life change you. The song "You're so Vain" comes to mind when thinking about my obsession with bigger boobs. Hubby still brings it up on occasion, usually when I'm complaining about my looks. I think he'd like to see me with Pamela Anderson Boobs. Sure, I'd get a kick out of occasionally wearing them around but not stuck to my chest for the rest of my life.
In junior high, boys said I was President of the Itty Bitty Tiddy Committee. Their ring leader used to torture me about size on the bus ride home from school each day. He'd say stupid things like you've got mosquito bites on your chest, let me scratch them for you. Most of my friends had grown boobs but I was still waiting. Because of my flat chest, I hated the way I looked. I prayed, quoted scripture (desire of my heart one) and even tried to use the Word of Faith message for bigger Boobs to appear on my chest.
I miraculously started 8th grade with boobs, thanks to Mom introducing me to padded bra's. It worked great until I was invited to a swim party. Mom came to the rescue once again with a padded swimsuit. It looked funny with zero cleavage but you know it doesn't take much to fool stupid junior high boys.
Through my teens and 20's, boob job ranked right up there with the need to eat, breath and sleep. In between the birth of Little Man and Baby Girl, a friend who was about my size had a boob job after giving birth to her second and final child. Shortly afterwards, she proudly flashed my friend and I. She looked great and I was more determined than ever to have one as soon as possible. The cost of the surgery kept coming down so I figured by the time I was done having babies, I would be able to afford one. too. I honestly thought that bigger boobs would make my life better, is that not crazy!
It's funny how age, children and I guess just life change you. The song "You're so Vain" comes to mind when thinking about my obsession with bigger boobs. Hubby still brings it up on occasion, usually when I'm complaining about my looks. I think he'd like to see me with Pamela Anderson Boobs. Sure, I'd get a kick out of occasionally wearing them around but not stuck to my chest for the rest of my life.
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