It's the little things...
Today my little girl jumped up and down on the kitchen floor, and there was some bounce that had me thinking, "oh, crap, I'd better do something about that." Yes, Puddin' and I went bra shopping.
Last couple of times I was looking for a bra, Puddin's eyes lingered. I knew her friends were getting them and she was too shy to ask. Tried to take her a couple times now--just the two of us--and stuff always got in the way. Today, there was no other option, that bounce is not getting any smaller. When I asked her about it, tho, she got immediately embarrassed and denied wanting one of them there thangs. So I let it be for a bit, and didn't tell her where we were going so she couldn't get all worked up about it.
I suppose that's not fair of me, I should have prepped her some, but the advantage was no build up and no backing out, there we were in the midst of a forest of boulder holders and no place for either of us to run.
One thing I'm sure of, she will have the family blessing of tremendous real estate one day, and since it took me a good 30 years to figure out how a good fitting piece of engineering should fit and feel, I was full of clinical explanations. My mom didn't want me to have one too soon, so consequently, I walked around self-conscious of my bounce and lack of proper support in my middle school years. Conscious the other girls needed the bra I didn't own and could get away with not having. Heh...guess I have the last laugh on that now.
So I took her to Nordy's for a proper fitting and imparted the wisdom I had gleaned from research, trial and error and just bad bras that bother you until you dance with joy pitching the damn things into the trash. Upshot? She left with pretty new undies, wearing her favorite and sporting a huge grin on her face.
I gave her a big hug and told her she looked beautiful.
Who says rites of passage have to be embarrassing or uncomfortable? It's a boob catcher, and it's a great thing to need--so better get one you like that makes you look fabulous and helps you feel pretty. A far better experience than my own passage, I think, but we'll probably have to wait 30 years for Puddin' to write up her own experience in a blog. Wishing you good experiences with the little things, my friends...
Last couple of times I was looking for a bra, Puddin's eyes lingered. I knew her friends were getting them and she was too shy to ask. Tried to take her a couple times now--just the two of us--and stuff always got in the way. Today, there was no other option, that bounce is not getting any smaller. When I asked her about it, tho, she got immediately embarrassed and denied wanting one of them there thangs. So I let it be for a bit, and didn't tell her where we were going so she couldn't get all worked up about it.
I suppose that's not fair of me, I should have prepped her some, but the advantage was no build up and no backing out, there we were in the midst of a forest of boulder holders and no place for either of us to run.
One thing I'm sure of, she will have the family blessing of tremendous real estate one day, and since it took me a good 30 years to figure out how a good fitting piece of engineering should fit and feel, I was full of clinical explanations. My mom didn't want me to have one too soon, so consequently, I walked around self-conscious of my bounce and lack of proper support in my middle school years. Conscious the other girls needed the bra I didn't own and could get away with not having. Heh...guess I have the last laugh on that now.
So I took her to Nordy's for a proper fitting and imparted the wisdom I had gleaned from research, trial and error and just bad bras that bother you until you dance with joy pitching the damn things into the trash. Upshot? She left with pretty new undies, wearing her favorite and sporting a huge grin on her face.
I gave her a big hug and told her she looked beautiful.
Who says rites of passage have to be embarrassing or uncomfortable? It's a boob catcher, and it's a great thing to need--so better get one you like that makes you look fabulous and helps you feel pretty. A far better experience than my own passage, I think, but we'll probably have to wait 30 years for Puddin' to write up her own experience in a blog. Wishing you good experiences with the little things, my friends...