Guest Blogger- An Obsession With Boobs!

Hey, hey!! While Lori is snoozing on the sand someplace, she asked that I stop by and visit you! My name is Kristen Daukas and I own a little slice of the world called Four Hens and a Rooster where I chronicle the comings and goings of my world with three girls between the ages of 10 and 14. I also have Ten to Twenty Parenting, which is a place for parents who are also raising Teens and Tweens.. it’s meant to be a place where we can all go and not feel like we are certifiably crazy as parents.

I don’t even know you guys and I already have a confession to make.
I have an obsession with boobs.
Not the “oh my God what a jerk – he’s such a boob” variety but rather, the female variety.
But before you cast me off as some whack job or call the local authorities, let me explain.
As the mother of 3 who’s always been pretty well stacked, I find it to be a bit discouraging that my girls are starting to get.. well.. a bit lazy.
Or loose. Maybe loose is a better term.
When I’m looking down they don’t seem to be too low, but when I see pictures of myself I’ve started to notice that the girls are starting to encroach the middle point of my front frame.
And it’s making me crazy.
I really miss having perky boobs so it has put me on a mission to find the perfect bra. I was at a girls tech retreat a couple of years ago and the topic came up and with 15 other middle aged women in attendance, it seems that I’m not the only one on a quest to find the perfect bra that will put her girls back where they belong.
Above the Navel Dixon Line.
We want one that lifts and separates but doesn’t leave us with bullet boobs like the 40’s or Madonna and her cone bra. As we continued the discussion, we figured out that there is an at-home party service for BRAS!!! One of the ladies got busy looking for the ultimate Bra Lady and shortly after that trip, we had our very own at-home Bra party.
The bras that were brought to us were lovely, pricey and unfortunately, didn’t work worth a damn. 
Unlike my bestie, I WANT the bra that raises my girls to the point where they could also serve as a shelf for my wine glass or coffee cup. The only thing most bras do for me is make me feel like I am having a heart attack – which from an old episode of Oprah, I know is a sure sign of a bad fitting bra..
So now, I’m obsessed. Whenever I’m out and see a mom who is relatively endowed with perky boobs, I really want to ask her what bra she’s using. I just haven’t figured out quite how to approach the subject.
“Hi Mary Jane!! How are you? Kids look great – how’s school? You know, I’ve been dying to say something to you. You have the most amazing looking boobs! Would you mind telling me what bra you’re wearing?”
If I hadn’t been banned from the PTA before, I surely would be then. Not to mention the label I’d get from the kids….  There goes crazy, boob obsessed Mrs. D!
It’s not that I’m vain because I’m not. I’m also not trying to be trite because I am grateful that my girls are healthy, as I know there are a lot that are not.
Don’t worry… I’m not eyeing all the moms in the drop off line at school.. I’m obsessed not crazy :)  All I want is to know what bra I need to give my girls a front lift and not choke me to death. I also don’t want to spend $200 for a bra that’s going to last 6 months. I don’t think that’s a lot to ask, do you?
Truth be told, I think the thing that chaps my ass the most is that it means that I have to admit that I AM a 44-year-old mother of 3 who has gravity working against her.  When what I remember in my head is the 18 year old who was mortified to be nicknamed Bodacious Tatas.
And I know the girls and I are not alone in this….


Gorilla Boobs

Last week was one of my best ever. I’m of course saying that with sarcasm and a raised middle finger. I had a GYN appointment AND a dentist appointment on the same day. The dentist referred me to an endodontist for a root canal after finding one, maybe two cavities. I’m not sure of the exact number because I blacked out when he said, “root canal.” My gynecologist found a lump in my breast and referred me to an imaging center for an ultrasound. Winning!

The following day I went for my ultrasound, but after it was done the radiologist added a mammogram. I went into full-on panic mode and began writing out my will on the back of a People magazine that was several years old. By the way, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston got a divorce. Is nothing sacred anymore? Anyway, after the mammogram they sent me on my way.

I called my doctor’s office the next day because I was anxious about the results. The receptionist put me on hold for a moment then came back and said it was normal. I was relieved to say the least as I headed out for my root canal. It wasn’t until I was sitting in the dental chair staring at all the sharp tools, one of which is the syringe-needle combo with scissor handles, and listening to someone else’s mouth being suctioned that I stopped to think, “If my lump was normal, then what was it?” I was shaken back to reality when the endodontist turned me upside down in that awful chair and shined a bright light in my face.

Blackout time.

All was forgotten about the mammogram until thirty minutes ago when the nurse at my GYN office called me. She was calling to make sure I didn’t have any questions- so thoughtful. “Actually Marsha, I do have a question. If the lump was normal, then what was it?”

“Well, let me look at the report here. Oh yes, here it is. It says that it is an enlarged, but normal lymph node which is really nothing to worry about. You can get those from just shaving.”(Long pause.) “Lori, are you still there?”

“Ummmmm yeah, but here’s the thing, Marsha. I don’t shave my boobs.”

I heard hysterical laughter on the other end of the line. When she came up for air she said, “It can be from just shaving your legs or under your arms.”

“Ohhhhh, I just didn’t want you guys thinking I have gorilla boobs that require shaving.”

Marsha was still laughing. “We saw them last week, Lori. No one thinks you have gorilla boobs,” she snickered.

“Well, if they do will you please correct them?”

“Yes, Lori. A lot of people are staring at me right now, so I will let them know that you do NOT have gorilla boobs.”

“Thanks, Marsha. Have a great day.”

And, there you have it. My breast lump was just a lymph node that had become enlarged from something besides shaving my boobs. Because I don’t need to. Shut up and call Marsha if you don’t believe me.