The Thing about Boobs...

I know if you are reading the time… 1:42 AM… as I start typing, you may wonder WHAT in the heck I am doing up on a Saturday night knowing good and well I have to be at church at 9 AM to lead the music tomorrow morning. WELL… Brooklyn rolled over on my boob, which naturally WOKE me up because I had to pull it out from under her and it hurt like a foot that’s just been stomped. ANYWAY- IT GOT me to THINKING…
THE THING ABOUT BOOBS… My entire life I have heard girls and women who are pleasantly endowed say things like, “I HATE big boobs… they hit me in the face when I run” “Big Boobs are a curse. Men don’t even know I have a face” “My big boobs always get in the way” “Wendi you are SO lucky!”
WELL… as a flat chestee for most my life and president of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, I have to say to those women… You are KILLING ME! Here is how I look at it… I longed for boobs most of my childhood, all of high school, and into two years of marriage when LOW and BEHOLD I got my wish! (Unfortunately my big boobs came in a bundle package with 50 lbs of belly and two gallons of milk that shot out every time a boob got bumped). YET STILL I was in HeAvEn!
Here are some GOOD things you complaining crazies. I no longer lose my boobs when I put on a bra.. (where are you hiding little ones??) I no longer have to worry about giant craters showing through my shirt where my padded bra has been washed and deformed. (cause’ I don’t have to where padding anymore! HURRAY!)
Granted, one can’t fully enjoy breasts or really judge the fit when there is a huge belly making walking difficult, let alone fitting into clothes properly. So, I revert to my glory days after giving birth to my sweet Brooklyn. FINALLY, after three months of recovery, I had a flat tummy and nice C cup breasts. Despite the fact that I was pumping milk like a dairy cow and the goods were pretty much untouchable if you didn’t want to get drenched in breasty milk, there were THREE very happy people in our household. (5 if you count the dogs bc I’d let them drink Brooklyn’s left over bottles when I figured they’d sat out too long). AND I went to the beach and WOE- I could finally ROCK that bikini I’d always longed to wear since I was old enough to know there was a difference between boys and girls. (I did NOT rock one, only a TANKinni, because #1 I’m a modest Mormon girl and #2 Freddie Cougher shredded my stomach while I was prego with tons of stretch marks…. (Reasons not necessarily being in that order)). And in response to the complaint “men don’t know you have a FACE” well, I consider that a blessing… less time to spend on hair and make-up. And your boobs get in the way? In the way of WHAT? Folding your arms? Seriously, padding, water bras, and those bra inserts are much more IN THE WAY (always wondering if the water bra is going to start leaking or the padding is going to fall out while you are walking into class…). And yes, I tried jogging… that does suck when your boobs are bouncing all over the place. GET A SPORTS BRA and then just do like me and run with both hands holding down your boobs… You may get a few stares but eh… they would’ve been leering at your chest anyway, right? And yes, it’s weird to have something to guard when you sleep, but the way I see it…. My legs get Charlie horses and my ankles get twisted. My legs are always too long for the pants I want to buy and they can never get comfortable when I try to sleep… YET never once have a said, “UGH… I hate my legs. You are so lucky you don’t have any!”