It’s time to say goodbye to an old friend-- a friend who has seen me through thick and thin and thicker. Through childbirth and nursing and beyond. Through weight fluctuations and mood fluctuations.
Over the years my friend became a bit beaten down and strung out. Others sometimes implied that this friend wasn’t good enough for me anymore and that I should start looking for a replacement. I resented the implication and remained loyal for a few more years. We exercised together, and then quit the gym together-- again. We shared insomnia and late night ice cream runs.
Today, however, was the final straw. My friend failed me in a dramatic way and I just knew I had to look somewhere else for much-needed support. I can now admit it: my favorite bra, dingy and torn, has to go.
If you’ve had kids, you know how your life changes dramatically in so many ways. I’m not even going to get into the physical changes here, some of which do focus in the bra arena, but rather, I'll mention the psychological. The need to be ready to spring into care-giving mode on a moment’s notice changed my habits. Namely, when I had kids, I went from sleeping in the raw to sleeping in a bra, and this comfy cotton number was always my favorite.
I remember a while back Tom asking, “Since when do you sleep with a bra on?” I was like, “Thanks for noticing. This thing hasn’t left my body since 1999." Daytime, nighttime, my bra was the best.
Today I found 3 snazzy yet utilitarian numbers to replace Old Faithful. I hope I’ll like them half as much. Well done, old friend, well done.
Over the years my friend became a bit beaten down and strung out. Others sometimes implied that this friend wasn’t good enough for me anymore and that I should start looking for a replacement. I resented the implication and remained loyal for a few more years. We exercised together, and then quit the gym together-- again. We shared insomnia and late night ice cream runs.
Today, however, was the final straw. My friend failed me in a dramatic way and I just knew I had to look somewhere else for much-needed support. I can now admit it: my favorite bra, dingy and torn, has to go.
If you’ve had kids, you know how your life changes dramatically in so many ways. I’m not even going to get into the physical changes here, some of which do focus in the bra arena, but rather, I'll mention the psychological. The need to be ready to spring into care-giving mode on a moment’s notice changed my habits. Namely, when I had kids, I went from sleeping in the raw to sleeping in a bra, and this comfy cotton number was always my favorite.
I remember a while back Tom asking, “Since when do you sleep with a bra on?” I was like, “Thanks for noticing. This thing hasn’t left my body since 1999." Daytime, nighttime, my bra was the best.
Today I found 3 snazzy yet utilitarian numbers to replace Old Faithful. I hope I’ll like them half as much. Well done, old friend, well done.
