Nipple Crisis Averted…Barely.

31 May

I’ve come to realize that the following two truths can not exist without one another.  An “if/then” statement for you statistic nerds out there.

Hear me out…

If a woman gives birth to a baby, then she loses her ability to (pack the appropriate undergarments to wear with her Little Black Dress) pack everything she needs when she’s going out on the town without child.

Some mamas out there may fondly refer to this truth as Mommy Brain.  I think that’s an official medical term.  Or at least it has an official definiton on Urban Dictionary:

Mommy Brain: The phenomenon known to mothers where their brains become useless piles of goo after being around their children for too long.

Used in a sentence: I can’t remember how old I am.  Total case of mommy brain.

So yes.  It is a very serious.  It is very real.

And last night, I suffered from a horrific case of (insert evil, sinister, horror movie music) mommy brain.

Let me set the scene:

My mother, sisters, and I were all getting ready at a hotel for a bachelorette party.  As you can imagine, when you have 4 adult women all getting ready in one confined area-things can get a little bit tense. While we were clearly enjoying the fact that we had each other to affirm which jewelry and shoes would best accessorize our outfits, we were also making the following types of comments to each other:

“Do you really have to put your mascara on right there?  I can barely slide past you to look in the mirror.”

“I’m sweating really badly right now on my inner-thighs. Could somebody puh-lease turn down the thermostat.”

“Are you done using the hair spray yet?  I think you just killed an entire 3rd world country with all that aerosol.”

“Seriously.  How long does it take you to strap on your shoes?”

“There IS such a thing as TOO MUCH self tanner.”

We weren’t rushed at all. And I promise we really love each other.

And then my mother asked me this question:

“Oh honey.  Did you want your bra to show through your dress like that?”

I stopped dead in my mascara application tracks.  Oh god no.  I quickly grabbed a compact and shot a glare into it to reflect off another mirror so I could see exactly how much of my bra my mom was talking about.

(Insert mommy brain moment here.)

Oh that’s right, Lindsey.  You are wearing a backless dress. Crap.

And this is when the mini panic attack ensued.  We’ve allllll been there, right ladies?  You are rushing around to get ready at the last minute. And you realize there’s no way you are going to have enough time to put earrings in, finish applying make up, shave your legs-all the while of course-you are getting death stares from your significant other.  And if those death stares had a caption-they might say:

“You’re really still not ready yet?”

And to answer this question on behalf of all stressed out women who never have enough time to get ready:

“NO! WE REALLY AREN’T READY YET. AND IF YOU CONTINUE TO STARE AT US LIKE THAT.  THEN YOU’LL BE LIABLE TO CAUSE US TO TAKE THREE TIMES AS LONG TO FINISH GETTING READY. JUST TO MAKE YOU MAD.”

I digress.

So anyways.  Back to the I’m-wearing-a-backless-dress-but-didn’t-bring-nor-do-I-own-a-backless-strapless-bra crisis…

At this point, we were a mere 9 minutes from the time we were supposed to be in the hotel suite down the hall for the start of the festivities, and I was having a problem channeling my inner-MacGyver to remain cool, calm and collected while being faced with a fashion crisis.

And by fashion crisis, I mean nipple crisis.

You see, in my pre-breastfeeding days…I could have taken off the bra, channeded my inner hippie self, and gone braless.

But unfortunately, my careless go-out-in-public-without-a-bra glory days are long gone since Henry arrived.

I mean holy breastfeeding nipples.  For those of you who have nursed out there-you know what I’m talking about.  When you have a baby, and you choose to nurse that baby-your nipples transform.  They go through what I might call booby boot camp.  And while your nipples may have used to be categorized in terms of pennies, nickels, dimes or perhaps even quarters.  Nowadays, I’d liken my nipples to a certain meat-related pizza topping.  You get the idea.

So no.  Going braless wasn’t an option.  Unless of course-I wanted to be THAT girl. Which I didn’t. Because I’m not.

And the look of panic in my eyes must have let my mom and sisters know it was time for Plan B.

Plan A: Mommy Brain Fail.

Plan B: Find a solution.

We tried the age-old band aid trick.  The band aids weren’t big enough. FAIL.

We tried electrical tape.  It poked through my dress. FAIL.

We briefly entertained the idea cutting up a slip my mom was willing to sacrifice, just so I could slide a piece of fabric between my chest and the dress. FAIL.

I finally got to a point where I wanted to laugh and cry all at once.  And then I started having an internal dialogue with the big guy upstairs.

“Why, God?  Why me tonight? I’m just an honest mother,  trying to slip into a little black dress, and feel pretty tonight.  Why are you robbing me of this small pleasure?  I even put hot rollers in my hair. Can’t you throw me a bone.”

So eventually I got to a place where I resolved myself to the fact that I would just have to be THAT girl.  I mean what other choice did I have, right?

RIGHT?

So as we walked down the hall to begin the festivities for our bride-to-be, I had a moment where I let egocentrism get the best of me.  As we walked into the party I almost immediately blurted out:

“I know. I’m not wearing a bra.  Honestly girls-can I get away with it.  Or is there just entirely too much nipple going on?”

There were about ten girls in the room at the time, including a couple of our moms.  I would like to say I got 9 blank stares of pity.  And one honest soul (Thank you Missy!) who immediately answered my question:

“Absolutely not.  Way too much nipple. Here-I have pads in my bra.  Slip these in your dress and see if they work.

And they did.

And I immediately said a little prayer to God.

Apparently he was listening the whole time.

Nipple. Crisis. Averted.

*And let me let you in on a little secret…The black dress I was wearing…happens to be the one.  Remember the promise I made to you?  Here.  I’ll remind you:

*For those of you who are STILL desperate to see what I looked like as 37-week pregnant bridesmaid…I’m starting to come around to the idea of showing you…8 months after the fact.  My ego still isn’t quite ready to bare my soul to the entire internet world the unfortunate taffeta-clad belly that I sported on that sweaty day back in July…However-my goal is that I’ll do a post soon which includes a side-by-side picture comparison of what I looked like the day of the wedding, and what I look like when I’ve officially returned to what I deem is a note-worthy pre-baby body.  I’m not quite there yet…but I will say-putting on those jeans yesterday definitely made me realize that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  Stay tuned…

So it’s coming.  The big reveal.  After waiting almost a year…I’m finally ready to show you what I looked like on that steamy day back in July 2009, and what I look like now in June of 2010.

I think the saying goes…remember ladies-you took nine months to put the pregnany weight on-give yourselves 9 months to take it off.  And don’t feel guilty about it.

Well-what do you know…Henry Isaac Perkins turns nine months old. Today.

And I’m feeling inspired.  I decided I’m ready to bare my soul. After the averted nipple crisis last night, I’ve decided I can survive anything. Including putting my vanity aside and showing the entire internet world what could possibly the worst pictures of me.  Ever.

My only fear is that my readership may decrease after you see what I looked like as a 37-week pregnant bridesmaid.  Oh god, my tummy is in knots just thinking about the fact that I’m actually going to post it.  Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek.

Stay tuned for the big reveal…I promise it’s coming this week.

There.  I made a promise to my readers.  Now, I have to go through with it.

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6 Responses to “Nipple Crisis Averted…Barely.”

  1. Rachie May 31, 2010 at 9:12 am #

    I am pretty sure I am laying on the floor laughing my head off. I can picture the entire scene – you are such a fabulous writer, Shubz. That is only one of 1,908,939,039,309 reasons I love you.

  2. mamahiggins May 31, 2010 at 6:02 pm #

    Thank you for sharing, because when it happens to me(and it will), I’ll have something to relate to and it’ll be that much easier to laugh off! You made my day 🙂 Glad it all panned out!

  3. shumaluckbucky June 1, 2010 at 10:58 am #

    Dear Dad,

    I know you read this blog. And if I don’t get in contact with you before you read this entry, I’m really sorry.

    Sincerely,
    Colin aka “Daddy Perks”

  4. Abby June 1, 2010 at 8:33 pm #

    LOL. Hilarious. And glad you averted Nipple Crisis ’10. Can’t wait to see the pics! I’m sure you look fantastic!

  5. Bethany June 1, 2010 at 10:09 pm #

    You totally crack me up! You’re a better woman than I am since you just went with it…I would’ve totally freaked out and worn something else! I’m sure you looked great nonetheless, especially after you were saved by the bra pads. I’ll get the SATC pic to you just as soon as I upload it tomorrow. Also, is Henry’s big shelf from Ikea? I have the same one (I think) for my craft store, err I mean personal craft supply collection, and I’m thinking that for our new house I might need about 4 more for my walk-in closet, the kid’s play room, their bedrooms and so forth!!

  6. Tiff June 1, 2010 at 11:19 pm #

    Hahahahahahaha! This is just one example of why your blog is the bombay! LOL! I love it! Mainly because I can completely relate! I have a “mommy brain” post in draft form, but that post will be no where near as good as yours! 🙂 I am sure that you looked fabulous, bra pads or no bra pads! (And, by the way, what in the world were y’all doing with electrical tape?!)

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