So Nicole Kidman is pregnant and due the same time I am – at some point in July…Yes, I realize this is her first pregnancy and yes, I know she is eight feet tall, but if I have to look at anymore photos of her in the media, I just might hurl…If you compared me to her you would absolutely think I was either a) carrying multiples – as in more than two multiples, b) my due date had been grossly miscalculated or c) I must have gestational diabetes. Of course I know that I am five foot three and carrying my third child in four years but still…I find it horribly unfair that her breasts are not hanging down to her ankles or that her cleavage does not begin right under her neck making it close to darn-near impossible to find shirts that don’t flash the general public the million times one must bend down and pick up one’s soon to be walking one year old. I am also certain that she does not have the lovely “white lightning” as I like to refer to my new friends, otherwise known as the stretch marks that are extending on the top back of my hips…Oh yes, I know – I am being vain and of course I realize it is a small price to pay for the joys of my three children; however, I would love for one second to not feel like I should actually be in a primitive tribe in Africa living a bucolic life while serving as a wet nurse to all of the village babies and sporting my beaded lip disk. I recently spoke to someone who had had a breast “lift” of which I have no qualms about considering once junior arrives this summer but I must admit that the girls did flinch a bit when she described the procedure…She used the phrase “cookie-cut your nipples then re-attach” that made me think that maybe it would not be worth it – for about two seconds. Then I decided that this was a small price to pay for actually being able to wear clothes that look good instead of tents that Mama Cass from the Mama’s and Pappa’s used to sport back in the day (God rest her soul with all due respect). When you have a rather large bosom (doesn’t that word remind you of something a home economics teacher would use?) and you choose to wear a looser-fitting shirt, you might as well select to wear a muu-muu or a caftan as this is precisely what becomes of the garment once it is slid over your head. I often decide to simply wear a sports bra which does indeed make them look smaller but is not always the most comfortable option, comfort of course having a lot of pull (no pun intended) these days. I have considered going to get fitted for a new bra just to hold me over until July but the thought of this makes me down-right giggle – I can imagine the poor sales associate instructing me to hold them up so she can measure them around the nipple as she is supposed to do and can also see tape measures and chalk getting stuck in crevices and cleavages that could be somewhat traumatic so I have decided that I will wing it and wait until baby has arrived and I have gotten to pre-baby weight for this fun experience. To add insult to injury, while I was complaining to a friend of mine today about the absolute lack of maternity bathing suits that contain underwire tops for support – I mean if ever there was a time to break out the extra stainless steel armor it would be to corral these girls during pregnancy – she informed me that it is now not recommended for pregnant and breast-feeding mothers to wear underwire tops because it could prohibit milk-ducts from forming and could lead to infection…Dear God, I say, give us the option to at least take the chance for in less than a month I will be going to Disney with the family and will have to sport a suit with a flimsy padded shelf bra that will be exhausted after being worn just one day. Regardless, I still say that Nicole probably does not care much about the fact that she will not have underwire in her maternity suit this summer – in fact, she probably won’t even wear a maternity suit this summer or any maternity clothes for that matter…Lucky, genetically-blessed girl I say…
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When We Think It’s Impressive to Be Busy
* Friends, I’m in Book Launch Land. I’m feverishly working to prepare for the release of Heart Sisters: Be the Friend You Want to Have. I’ll be re-posting some oldies (but hopefully you’ll think they’re goodies!) now and then so I can focus more on the upcoming release. Thanks for understanding . . . Oh – and I so appreciate you taking the time share on social media. This is the way of the writer these days and will help get the word out about Heart Sisters! A few years ago, I was talking to a woman who was in ..
For When You Wash Your Phone in the Washing Machine
Last week, I found myself with an unplanned hour and a house of beckoning chores demanding immediate attention. So like any woman with a house full o’ kids and a husband that works long hours, I thought I would just cram as much as I possibly could into those precious 60 minutes. I arrived home, put on my running shoes and started to RUN throughout the house, checking this and that off my list. A few minutes into my Wonder Woman mission, I grabbed a load of dirty towels and, clutching my phone in my right hand, loaded them in ..
Five Ways To Raise An Anxious Child
I know, I know . . . Who wants to raise an anxious child? Who would ever read such a post? Of course, none of us intentionally tries to raise a child prone to anxiety and stress. But many of us are. Myself included. I’m not preaching to you from the pulpit – I’m talking to you as a friend sitting with you in the same boat. And at times it feels like we’re wearing life preservers and praying for rescue, doesn’t it? The more I think about this though, the more I realize that perhaps parenting is really not ..
Church Shopping: On Finding a New Church
If you’ve been hurt by the church, then it’s likely the thought of ever going back to church again is right up there with oh, say getting your teeth pulled (sorry, Honey.) (My husband’s a dentist. I have to watch dental jokes and comparisons.). I need to confess I once felt the same. Honestly, when those wounds were still raw, the thought of ever stepping foot inside another church again was enough to make me physically ill. We (Jason and I) talked it over incessantly. “Maybe we could just follow Jesus and just not go to church?” we asked each ..
Why Christians Don’t Always Have to Agree
We sat contemplatively around the table, speaking softly about the struggles of marriage. I complimented her on her courage because for some reason, we feel shame when we admit our marriage is in trouble. I know because I’ve been there and felt it, too. I begin to share some of my own heart and experiences with my ten year old marriage, wisdom attained through the really hard places. Unfinished wisdom that still percolates and wisdom I know but don’t always allow my actions and choices to show it. I then share some heart changes I had to make in order ..