Week 3 Long Boobs

My daughter woke me from bed the other morning. We had a little chat; she was probably asking me if I like her pink shiny pyjamas with the hearts on them. She’s got nicer PJ’s than I do, I’m wearing old sweat pants and a maternity T-shirt. (Yes my son is now 20 months old) I swung my legs over the bed, I sit up and stare into her blue eyes, and she was looking over me as she caressed my shoulder. She strokes my hair and looks into my eyes “Mom, I’m going to have long boobs like you one day when I’m bigger”

Oh great! Not big, not perky, not small, not round, LONG! She said LONG! I’m thinking in my head I want to burst out laughing, I wanna say, ‘oh, great thanks C!” I mean really, the key word is so important here… long.

I don’t laugh, I don’t mention that it’s because I birthed 2 children and nursed them for a total of 3 years, I just say thank you and we carry on with our morning routine. Of course I’ve got a grin on my face and I’m giggling and I want to phone my 8:30 am girlfriend and tell her what C just said.

I know that I am not the only one who has insecurities about my body. As a teenager I resented my breasts, then it was my butt, and now that I’m a mother I really could lose the jelly around my belly. I really try to pay attention to my own insecurities with my daughter and purposefully not mention any of them around her. She doesn’t need to be worrying about her self esteem at 4; she just needs to be pure in her own way.

Picture this scenario…

You arrive at the beach. You are feeling pretty confident in you new bathing suit that can cover up everything it can without looking like you’re from the 1920s. You’ve got your beach bag, your kids, some toys and you lay out your things. You bravely take off your sun cover, suck it in a little more and sit down. You children go off to play a little and you watch them intently. Still feeling pretty good you start to take your eyes off the kids and let your mind wander. As you think about other things you notice that beautiful looking woman in the bikini.

She’s got a great tan.

Humm, how old is she?

Does she have kids?

I wonder if she works out?

She must, look at those arms.

I mean seriously she must be about 20 years old.

That bathing suit. I would wear that if….. blah blah blah.

Then you look to your right… there’s another one! She is a tall woman with dark hair, in a beach chair and a hat with a brim so big that shades her whole upper body. She is older, a few more wrinkles than you’d like, but dressed in luxurious jewels and clearly has no intent of going swimming.

She’s got too much of a tan.

She’s got to be at least what? 50?

Where are her kids?

How much money does she make?

I bet her husband is smoking a cigar and playing a round of golf, while she is here by the pool drinking her martini reading her Vogue.

Now all of the sudden I’m not feeling so hot any more. Wait, I mean, um you. You… aren’t feeling so hot any more. You grab your towel wrap it around your body, slouch as you let out that breath you’ve been holding for the last 5 minutes and give up on looking good with most of your skin showing. It’s not going to happen.

I really do feel good about myself most of the time. The best is after having an uninterrupted shower, drying my hair, putting on my makeup and walking out the door to meet girlfriends or a nice dinner with my husband. I want to have that feeling just last. Confidence, beauty, and a little bit of mystery. I’ve taken care of all my perceived faults and disguised them as perfection.

I definitely get more judgemental about myself after I see others. Why should I care? Who knows what insecurities they have? I know they have some preconception of me too, just based on a glance. That isn’t fair, but those strangers do it to me, and I do it to them.

I got up to 198lbs while I was pregnant with my daughter. I remember thinking “If I see that scale hit 200 I’m just going to die! How am I ever going to get rid of all this weight?” Like the 2 pound difference was the deciding factor if I would remain fat forever or become a healthy woman again. At that point I barely lifted a finger my whole pregnancy. To tell you the truth, I was scared to do anything. I just wanted to sit, watch my belly grow and have a baby. Simple as that.

After having C, I lost many of my old friends, and became friends with of new ones that coincidentally had new babies too! (Yes, that is my sarcasm you are detecting) We would sit, brag about our baby’s smiles, giggles, and poop. We would complain about sleep, our bodies and poop. I hate to say this… but I would judge those ladies. After having a baby only 6 weeks prior, some of those women would complain about their boobs, bellies or whatever and I would sit there and thinking that I couldn’t even imagine a body like that before having kids! Their banter would irritate me and I’d put a smile on my face take, a sip of my coffee and mumble under my breath. I would pretend that I needed to change my baby’s diaper so that I could leave the discussion.

During my pregnancy with my son I didn’t gain much weight, I was very active and I bounced back fairly quickly to my regular weight…but I was a different shape once again. It dawned on me, those women who had a body like a goddess did have something to complain about. They had changed just like I did. They had to adjust to bad backs, sore hips, saggy bellies and breasts getting bigger and then ultimately deflating.

So when C admires something, I will let her. I will let her decide what she thinks is beautiful and what she wants to be like when she is bigger. She will inevitably find something she doesn’t like about herself, until then, let her see all things beautiful….. even long breasts.