It Had to Happen Sooner or Later...

Just because you know something's going to happen doesn't necessarily mean you're prepared for it when it does. Say for instance when your normal clothing stops fitting properly. Or we can be more specific and say your jeans...your "FAT jeans." You know, the good old faithful pair that are always in the closet for you when you've over indulged on a weekend eating and drinking binge or your PMS bloat is out of control. They're like the best friend you can call up when you've had a bad day- she tells you it'll be okay; you're still an amazing person and that things will get back to normal soon. She's usually right, but not this time. 

I recently make an investment in a few new bras. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I saw that the size bra that fits most comfortably is 36DDD. So I'm pretty sure it's just a matter of time before surpass Dog the Bounty Hunter's wife's in the boobage department. I called my mother half bragging/ half lamenting and her response was,  "You Grow Girl!" I guess funny runs in the family. (Thanks again Mommy). The boob job by Mother Nature wasn't upsetting or disconcerting- as it was to be expected. I mean one of the first clues I got that I was pregnant was instant boob growth and the super awesome soreness that accompanies it. But up until this past weekend I've still kept my hourglass shape. A nice cute little waist (in comparison to the rest of me) and all of my clothes still fit. 

I'm not sure of the exact moment it happened, but it did sometime this weekend. I know I shouldn't be surprised. All of the mommies-to-be who are on the same websites I'm on who are due at the same time are going through this too. 
Some popped even earlier. I'm not sure why I thought I was going to be different. But it happened to me this morning when I went to put on my faithful "fat jeans" which I've been wearing for the past few weeks. They went on just fine, but then dunh...dunh.. duuunh- they refused to close. In fact, I was only able to button the bottom two of the five buttons on my Lucky Brand jeans. Needless to say I was not feeling so lucky. Cause what this means is it's now time for someone to start maternity clothes shopping. Now, for those of you that haven't known me long I detest shopping- unless I'm getting a kickass deal. I'm the person who goes to the mall or department store knowing exactly what I want and I'm in and out in 20, 30 minutes max. I don't know what's wrong with me- maybe I'm missing that "girl gene" or something, but I've been that way almost all of my adulthood- (and my husband is grateful.) So I just ask that you say a little prayer to the shopping  gods on my behalf that I can find what a like and need without stressing me OR Baby Bean out. 

Before I sign off I'd to leave you with a laugh or with your mouth agape as mine was. Right after CJ and I found out we were preggers we happened to be in Macy's so we checked out the maternity clothes section just for shits and giggles. And that's where I saw something I honestly didn't even think existed- but they do. Check out the scene below.

Yes that's right maternity Daisy Dukes. Two guesses on who won't be rockin' those this summer.

P.S. If you like this and other of my blog entries please vote for me as I've been nominated for a Top 25 Mom Blog of NY. You can vote everyday for the next 10 days here: 

 http://www.circleofmoms.com/top25/Top-25-New-York-Moms-2012?trk=t25_Top-25-New-York-Moms-2012
Thanks for the love and support! 

My Preciouses!!!

My Boobs, My Boobs What Happened to My Preciouses??!! I'm not a braggart, but I am someone who has always prided herself in having a nice rack. I was blessed with a voluptuous set of breasts coupled w/ a comparatively small waste- since about middle school I've appreciated their power & allure. I've gotten validation on that across the board from the gay men on Fire Island who've asked permission to motorboat me to the creepy homeless man on the corner who one summer told me that I inspired him to get a job so that he could keep me in a lifetime of tank tops. And let's not forget the straight employed men & women (mostly good girlfriends) who either offered up praise or jealousy- continuing the long standing admiration of "the Girls". They have always been a badge of honor for me; and at a modest 34DD since high school- they've now gone from Hooter's Employee of the Month status and made the crossover into Dog the Bounty Hunter's Wife territory. I knew something was going on 'cause I sensed it. I've been feeling tingles in "the Girls" for a while. When I made the inquiry to my husband at first said he couldn't tell much of a difference. Actually, his direct quote was, "It's like going from 500 miles an hour to 510." Well, that was about 2 weeks ago. In the past 14 days even he's noticed a difference.  Hell, at this point, Stevie Wonder would notice a frapping difference! But I can now tell when my husband- let's call him "CJ", is taking them in cause his eyes do a buggy-thing like Wile E. Coyote when he visualizes the Roadrunner baked on a platter. And the cruelest of cruel tricks by Mother Nature on both of us is that one of my favorite erogenous zones has become a "Do not touch me there, do not think about touching me, do not look too hard at them OR expose them direct sunlight zone". If the cabinet door slams shut or the phone rings too loud I ache! What the hell? The crazy thing is- I know they're going to get bigger, but hopefully better. But I don't even want to think about how much new bras are going to set me back. So long shopping at Victoria's Secret hello Modern Maiden- or some company w/ maiden in it. Those are the comfortable ones for "big" girls right?!