Don't read this if you are easily offended by discussion of undergarments. Consider yourself forewarned.

I wrote this post about a week ago. I have debated on whether or not to post it. I don't know who reads this blog... but then I was thinking, "...this is my blog. And this is me, being me. If someone is offended by what they read, how about don't come back. That easy." So, if you are offended, I didn't mean to. Many apologies. Now, go read someone elses blog. Have a nice life.


Yep. After my last post about the true meaning of Christmas, here I am. Making a Christmas list. But it is a really really short list.

All I want for Christmas...


is some new Bras and Panties!

That's right. I said it. It is open to the public now. Anyone could read it.
And I don't care.

Ladies, you know where I am coming from. Seriously, I haven't gotten a new bra since Liam was an infant. (coughLiam is 3cough) Wait! I take that back. I did get 2 new nursing bras when Eliza was born. And I am still sporting one of those puppies on a weekly basis.

You know it is bad when your bras are about 12 sizes too big. When you could probably fit an entire pair of balled up socks in there with your tatas. When your bra "deflates" if you get bumped into. Uh-huh. This is the world I am living in.

Don't get me wrong. I am not upset with the entire situation. I am happily back down to 125 lbs. I am not going to be that size and maintain the 34D bra size I was wearing post baby. I am just saying that something has got to give.

One of my 2 bras (yes 2) is currently being held together with a safety pin. The other one I rigged up to try to make it smaller. I would hardly call either of these efforts a success.

And my undies... oh, my undies. I hearby vow to never purchase underwear that comes in any kind of "multi-pack" again. No more 6-pack panties for this girl. And if the waistband has a "wander-er"... you know that stray piece of elastic that somehow miraculously escaped the waistband, and every time you try to break it off it whips you in the hip!-I am tossing them in the garbage!

I remember the days when I had multitudes of bras and panties. Pretty ones. Not these worn out "mom" bras and "granny" panties... Do you remember ladies, the days when you actually cared about what your undergarments looked like?! And that they would match! I am determined not to lose that part of myself in the "mommy-mix". I am sure that my husband wouldn't mind.

So, who is with me?! Or am I all alone in this world of embarrassing underwear confessions? If we don't do something soon, we will all be wearing Riders "Mom" jeans that come up to our ribs and feathering our bangs while wearing cardigans with embroidered kittens on them. Not a pretty site.

Update: I went shopping with my best friend Bri for her 29th birthday. We shopped. We laughed. We jumped on the trampoline at the mall. It was a great time. She went into the dressing room with me at Victoria's Secret. I was trying on stuff and trying to figure out what size I am... blah blah blah. Then it happened. She saw my old bra, and busted out into hysterical laughter. She literally thought it was trash. We decided that a homeless person would rather go bra-less than be caught in that contraption. All this to say, that it wasn't in my head. The bra actually was THAT bad.