Mamas, the end is near. I have been either nursing or pregnant since 2007. (Actually, that should be our new slogan here at ANMJ: "NURSING OR PREGNANT SINCE 2007!")
But Pax is now over two. And while he's not weaned juuuust yet...the reality is that his nursing is pretty sporadic. I recognize the signs, Mamas. They've been here for a while. I'll be lucky if I can stretch it out for a few more weeks at this point.
Therefore, it's time to take care of bidniss. Specifically, my bra situation. I have a few once-great nursing bras (most featured here), that are now stretched beyond all recognition. So on a Friday night a couple of months ago, I wandered into Victoria's Secret. (And by wandered, I mean that I tricked my husband into meeting me at the mall, then left him and the kids there next to 5 Guys.)
I didn't want to spend a ton of money - especially since 'the girls' will be in a state of flux as Pax tapers off. Once I stop nursing, I...I can't even talk about it. It's like my life's purpose will be gone. (cue tragic music)
Ok. Back to Victoria's Secret: Basically I walked in and they pounced. They started by asking what my 'needs' were (I tried to stick to the general topic of 'bras' and not immediately launch into a detailed list starting with "Poop ALONE")...and then quickly whipped out the measuring tape and wrapped it around my general chest area. "Uh, um.." I stammered. "I'm wearing three tops and this sweater is kind of chunk-" Nobody cared. They pronounced me a D. Maybe a C. And "probably, like, a 34". And suggested that I would "really, really love" their push-up bras. Hunh.