A Snyder In The Sun

A Snyder In The Sun

Lettin' Them Titties Fly

A few days ago I woke up in a horrible mood.  For no discernible reason I was cranky as fuck. I felt uncomfortable in my own skin.  I'm sure I will find out in a few days it was all a crazy PMS attack.  Fucking lady problems.  I had all kinds of shit running through my head, plus a baby yelling, plus Evie asking for breakfast, and 700 dogs that needed to be fed.  I wanted to crawl back into bed, lock the door, and watch Intervention.  I like to watch that show when I'm feeling down.  Nothing like seeing a crazy girl sucking on computer duster to put your life into perspective.  

The crankiness was intensified when it was time to get dressed to go to the grocery store.  I put on a tank top with skinny straps, making it difficult to find a bra to wear with it.  I tried on a strapless, a thin strapped, and a black one.  Nothing was working and I wanted to shred all of them with my teeth.  So I went without a bra.  That's right, two kids later and I went OUT IN PUBLIC without a bra on BY CHOICE, not because I was forgetful from sleep deprivation or lazy from a hangover.  And just as suspected, they were saggy and just a flappin' away and I fucking loved it!  Soooo much more comfortable.   Also as suspected?  Not one single person commented on my free flyin' boobs.  Mood instantly improved.

Why the hell should I feel constricted and uncomfortable because my boobies aren't as perky as they used to be?  I don't give a shit what other people think when they look at my chest.  The only person I'm worried about is my husband, and he likes them just fine.  Well, he definitely wants them bigger, but wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which fills faster.  If my boobs could just grow naturally (without getting knocked up) than sure.  Putting foreign objects in my body to perk them up?  Not so much.  I would constantly think one or both inplants had ruptured and I only had mere hours to live.  I can't deal with that kind of pressure.

So here are my boobs. Probably smaller than they were before I had babies.  Definitely lower in position.  And definitely more marked up.  But, I've fed two babies with them so I think I deserve to do whatever the fuck I want.  That includes not caging them up all the damn time. Breathe ladies, breathe, cause I'm lettin' you fly free for a while.

 

PS, it totally was PMS ;)   

Feel free to pass me around to your friends.  I like to be shared ;)