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Friday, November 07, 2008

Friday Blog Roundup

I finally hauled my ass out to Sylene's and got myself the first of what will be many new bras. I'm buying them one at a time; testing out the goods on my Good Girls. I felt like a preteen again because I showed up braless in a baggy sweatshirt and then stood there awkwardly when the woman at the store asked me to remove my top so she could fit me.

It was very reminiscent of my first training bra when I casually mentioned to my mother that I think I needed one of those as we passed by the display at the preteen store. What my mother didn't know was that I was going to Heather's birthday party that weekend and we had been told that we had to wear a bra to get into the party and she would be checking by feeling our back. I was not going to be the only girl at the party without a bra AND I didn't want to be the only girl in the sixth grade with a bra. What a Catch-22. I think I spent more time covertly taking on and taking off that bra daily than I did on my math homework. Hence why I always had low grades in math.

Oh--and three girls came to Heather's party braless including my best friend who was one of the coolest girls in the school. Why am I such a sucker?

Anyway, I wore my new bra yesterday and it made it past the Sluffing Hour--you know the hour I'm talking about. About seven o'clock where you can't stand to be in your bra one more second so you sluff it off and leave it on top of your bedspread? It was still on through dinner which is a good sign. A very good sign.

Achem, now that I've told you mine, share your first bra story please.

I didn't actually get to hear the announcement when Obama crossed the electoral threshold. I was watching the coverage and people started screaming outside so I hit mute because I was trying to figure out if the screaming was a good thing or a bad thing (you know that collective scream that went out across America in the last seconds of the Friends season finale in 1998? We were watching in our house and we could literally hear people yelling at their television throughout the development--special note to Serenity: we were in those Sunderland apartments behind the 7-11!).

It wasn't waking up the twins and the people sounded happy enough so I flipped back on the sound and looked at the screen and realized that Obama was now the President elect and I had missed the announcer actually saying the words the first time.

I am excited for Obama, but I am even more excited for Michelle to be the First Lady. She is so smart and thoughtful. Thought-provoking and nurturing. I can't wait to see what she does.

I am attempting to make a whole roasted chicken on Saturday night. I am making a "harvest meal" for my inlaws which is code for "we love you but we're not braving I-95 during Thanksgiving." I have already made a pumpkin pie and the crusty bread that we will turn into mushroom stuffing. There will also be brownies because I do not eat pumpkin pie. We are having cranberry sauce and a green bean dish and stuffed apples. See--Thanksgiving. Except without the traffic.

And now, the blogs...

Still Passing Open Windows has an untitled post about going to the gym and beyond the lovely tale of the man blow-drying his ass (what--come back here--don't click over yet!), there is also the most perfect analogy ever to that moment where you are confiding in your friend about infertility and they return the secret-telling by revealing they're pregnant. You must, of course, click over to read it. Okay, you're free to go.

The Story of Me
has a post about being jealous of a fellow Iffer while at the same time holding herself in check over her feelings. She writes about her decision to use donor eggs over her friend's 29 embryos from her IVF cycle: "I thought I had made my peace with that. Now I find myself feeling ripped off that my ovaries couldn’t spit out even a half dozen eggs, let alone 50, and I was only 32 years old. " I love the rawness of this post; the honesty. How many of us haven't spent days jealous of a fellow Iffer--forget the pregnant masses; I've been jealous of Iffers--and beat ourselves up over it too? It's a great post.

Crying Over the Fish Sticks has a post what we talk about when we try not to talk about infertility and then decide that we still have to vent. From the pregnant women who pass in front of her to the babies who haunt her dreams at night: an everyday post that has so many layers of nod-worthy thoughts.

Lastly, I Want to be a Mommy has a great post about becoming superstitious. She writes about the way infertility has changed her: "I never really was superstitious before. The number 13 never bothered me nor did black cats. Many of the little things like knocking on wood or whatever really were considered to have much truth to them. Now I find myself paying more attention." I love the fortune cookie she finds at the end and I hope that much happiness comes from the future gatherings.

The roundup to the Roundup: my boobs are thanking me (and share your first bra story), Obama Obama Obama, we're having Thanksgiving without the Thanksgiving this weekend, and most likely, my cranberry sauce will become my Show and Tell because I make a damn fine cranberry sauce.


Cara said...

Good Morning! Bright and early today?

First - YES I prescribe to the sluffing hour - every night! Last night they hung free over the scrapbook I was accessorising with stickers.

Sadly - I can't recall my first bra story. Truly. What does that say about my childhood? Repressed memories? Hmmm..I'll have to ask my mother. If SHE doesn't remember, then I will be calling the first therapist with an opening.

Searching for Serenity said...

I don't really have a first bra story. But, I do remember "borrowing" my sisters and wearing it to school. Bras were a big deal when I was 12.

Your post reminds me of the book Are you there God, it's me Margaret? In the book, Margaret explains that if you do a pumping motion with your arms, it will make your boobs bigger. And you MUST repeat the following when doing so. "I must...I must...I must increase my bust" - LOL!

Kristin said...

My first bra story comes with a moral: Never ever let a sibling come on the bra shopping trip.

My mom took me to the store to get my first bra in 5th grade. I was one of the early developers...ugh. I don't remember what store we went to but I do remember they had bras displayed on partial mannequins up above the shelves. Those display bras were high enough that you could see them through out the store. My mom and I were looking at all the appropriate bras...white and cream cotton ones with A cups. My little sister all of a sudden yelled at the top of her lungs, "Get that big orange one Kristin. Its sexy." In my mind I remember a pumpkin orange lacy bra with at least a DD cup. In reality, it was probably a more salmon color with maybe a C cup. I turned a million shades of red (wouldn't that have looked good with orange) and tried to hide. I have never forgotten that moment.

JJ said...

Ohh I was one of the first girls in my class to get one, so yes I remember--I had to wear it at the beach that first summer (I was 11) and I thought nothing could be worse. It was more of the trainer bra kind, but I had never felt so uncomfortable. NOW, I cant stand to be without one--and while I HATE bra shopping as much as bathing suit/jean shopping, it feels reaaaaal nice to have the support that the girls need!

battynurse said...

Thanks Mel for the mention. Your post makes me realize though that there is a typo. Oops. I hope the sort of Thanksgiving dinner turns out great. The cranberry sauce sounds good as I love cranberries.
I don't remember my first bra. I do remember the chick in the 6th grade that we were all sure she stuffed her bra until the day she came into the bathroom and lifted her shirt to prove she didn't.

Anonymous said...

You've got to be kidding me. My rant about irrational jealousy made the famed Friday Blog Roundup? I don't feel worthy....
But thanks for the mention.

I only wear a bra when I am in need of some moral support, for I surely don't need one for any other reason. (Something ELSE to be jealous of!) I don't specifically recall my first one, nor the story to go along with it...

Lori Lavender Luz said...

I'm still waiting to actually NEED a bra. I don't know what Sluffing Hour means. But I'll drink to it.

annacyclopedia said...

I think I was in grade 7 when I very seriously asked to talk to my mom privately, and told her I thought I needed to get a bra. She did very well at meeting my earnestness with the gravitas and restraint required when facing a 12 year old with puffy areolas and nothing else, and the following Saturday, we headed down to Eaton's and got a training bra. It was white nylon, closed in the front, and I fit into it for years. Proud to say that 23 years later, I've probably outgrown it.

Anonymous said...

I was an early developer too, but apparently my mom didn't notice, because my dear father blurted out at dinner one night that my TEACHER had talked to my mom about it . . .yup. I had a total meltdown.

My grandmother tried for years to get me to a fitting, but of course I resisted. I was 45 before I actually did it, and of course, Grandma was absolutely right!!

I'm going again over Thanksgiving weekend; time to update!

Somewhat Ordinary said...

I don't know ever since I was the P word I prefer to have a bra on. I still sleep in my night time nursing bra and I don't nurse anymore. I use to have a sluffing hour, but not anymore.

I was pretty flat chested and I really don't remember when I stared wearing a bra.

luna said...

wow, you're making a chicken? for real?

have you ever had pumpkin pudding? do you like pumpkin bread or muffins? hmm.

I now add meyer lemon to the cran sauce and it is yummy.

being a food enthusiast, T-day is M's favorite holiday. my family splits the dishes (my latest has been the swt pots/yams), but then we re-create the whole thing it at home that wk-end and make whatever leftovers we don't have... mmm...

can't remember my first bra, it's been so long... glad you found a good one. what kind?

Tara said...

My sluffing hour is usually as soon as I get home from work which is usually very early afternoon. If I make it to dinner time, it's a miracle.

Serenity said...

Funny. I wear a bra all the time these days. Seriously. I feel weird if I don't have one on. Hrm.

My first bra experience was pretty much a non-issue. My mom came into my room one day and told me it was probably time to wear a bra. And then she went out the next day when I was at school and bought me one.

My most embarrassing moment, bra-wise, was when I was the summer before 8th grade (which was when I also got my first AF, btw). AAAAaanyway- we went to a family barbecue with a TON of extended family (of whom most I had never met). And I decided to wear this white shirt which had a low back, so I couldn't wear a bra.

White shirt. No bra. You can probably see where this is going.

Can you say see-through?

I spent the day in the darkest, quietest part of the house. Hiding. MORTIFIED.

But anyway. I still can't get over the fact that we lived in the same apartment complex and never met each other! It's a crazy, small, nutty world. :)

loribeth said...

I think I got my first bra when I was about 11, & my mom ordered it from Eatons or Sears catalogue. I probably didn't really need one, but I wore it proudly. These days, of course, I can't wait to get out of it. It comes off as soon as I get home. And I don't wear one around the house or on vacation, if I can get away with it. ; )

I haven't bought a new bra in years. I really need to go somewhere for a proper fitting soon.

Jessica White said...

I fought with my mother about wearing one. I told her I didn't need to wear it. She got me a beige lacey bra from A&S in Roosevelt Fields Mall, my grandmother was with us (ACK!) I hated it, it was itchy and horrible. Fortunately we had also gotten a sports bra...I still hated that.

Within 5 months of starting to wear a bra I was spilling out of that and it got worse and worse after that...

I still hate them. I wear underwire sports bras most of the time.

HereWeGoAJen said...

My mom got me my first bra for my sibling present for my sister's third grade birthday party. I was in fifth grade and the first girl in my class to wear a bra. And then we moved, and I was in sixth grade and the last girl to need a bra. It was a weird change.

MrsSpock said...

I really need to get to Sylene's some day. I've hated every bra I've ever worn.

My first bra was traumatic. I'm the second oldest girl in the family, but hit puberty 3 years before my older sister did. I ended up doing everything first. So in the 5th grade, if you look at my pictures, you can see the Nubbins in every one of them. I REALLY needed a bra, but my mother was a single parent and things got lost in the shuffle.

At the end of 5th grade, we were visiting my grandmother, and she must have said something to my mother. We were all at a mall, including my brother, and my mother says in front of them all, "What do you think about getting you a bra- I think you need one."

Total humiliation. My 4 siblings immediately began teasing me, and though I really wanted and needed one (all the girls in gym class had one, though only me and Becky S, who had huge knockers and wore real women's underwear, were the only ones with boobs)- I rapidly picked out a sport's bra type training bra, and not the bra-shaped one I really wanted.

Hello Mother, this should have all been done in private.

Io said...

Oh bras.
In sixth grade I was wearing a pretty pink angora sweater that was fairly thin and my little puffy boobies needed a bra but I didn't realize. A bunch of the cool kids were sitting a laughing and then one of them, this girl named Rachel, walked up to me and said something about it. I was humiliated and hated her for years.
She redeemed herself completely my senior year of high school when she asked to write in my yearbook and wrote that she'd been waiting all year for me to have a bad day, but I never seemed to have one. She said it wasn't because she wanted me to have a bad day but that she'd wanted a chance to let me know that she thought I was one of the most beautiful people she knew. Totally made up for the bra grudge I had held all those years.

I can't believe you don't love pumpkin pie.

Bea said...

See, I am very fussy about my bras, and now I feel quite validated, because I don't get the chaffing hour. Unless you mean the hour where Mr Bea is chaffing to get out of the lingerie shop already. Which is worse? The chaffing hour or the frustration of finding the right bra that doesn't give you the chaffing hour?


Petrucia said...

My first bra was in 7th, perhaps even 8th grade. I couldn't wait to get one though. My mom was shopping at a cheap department store and I was there, admiring the small bras for flat chested teenagers like me. I almost begged her for one, nude with a little lace.
I'm a B cup now, and would easily go without a bra for days if I could. Unfortunately, in the US men tend to stare like they've never seen anything like it in their lives. It's a pity. In Brazil, where I'm from, most women with medium to smaller breasts rarely wear bras at all.
On a second thought, why the hell do I care? maybe I should just go about happy and bra-less. ;0

Paz said...

Hmmm, first bra. Don't recall when I started loving wearing a bra. But, I basically wore the same bra style for 20 years – no support, no underwires, no adjustable parts...just a stretchie that I dubbed "my first bra." It sufficed for a long time given genetics that blessed me with not needing support, but then I had a baby and it is all over. The end. uuugh.

bleu said...

Why don't you eat pumpkin pie?? Also you don't eat chicken but are making that. I am confused re: the pie thing obviously.

OK bra story. I was a very late bloomer but wanted a bra in 6th grade too. I was jealous of bra lines on backs. The day I got one I came home, put it on and then a leotard over it and went into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. My brother came in and tossed two band aids at me and told me they were for my mosquito bites and a bra was a huge waste of time for me.
I remained flat until like 9th grade when I went from an a cup to a c cup in like 3 months and was called "stuffer" for the rest of the year. Fun times!!

Pamela T. said...

I'm a huge fan of Michelle (and the rest of her family...Sasha just cracks me up!)

Are we doing the show and tell tomorrow? I've got my camera out...

areyoukiddingme said...

I don't actually remember getting my first bra, as the trauma beforehand has wiped everything out...

I was about 11 or 12, and we had gone to visit Grandma. I don't think we'd been there for longer than 10 minutes when Grandma announces to my mother (and the room at large, including my 3 older sisters and my dad), "Look at her. Can't you see that she needs a bra?" Thanks Grandma, I love to be stuck in a car for 2.5 hours, only to be humiliated upon arrival.

Linda said...

I begged and begged and begged my mom to get me a bra. EVERYONE was a getting them and nevermind that I was flat as a pancake at the time, I wanted a bra! She graciously gave in and got me some little a-cup training numbers. AND I HATED THEM. Oh goodness, they were so itchy and uncomfortable and restrictive and all I wanted to do was take them off. But I couldn't because I'd made such a big deal over it all and mom had even told my DAD and the pressure was huge.

And now my boobscicles are so enormous that I have to wear a bra right up until bedtime otherwise I'm massively uncomfortable. I really wish I could go back and tell my flat self to wait a while and enjoy being braless. I wish I had those A-cups back.