Boobs

Men you may wish to stop reading now.
.
.
.
.
.
Don't say I didn't warn you.

I caught sight of my boobs in the mirror the other day and let me tell you...I think the words OH MY FREAKIN' GOD exploded out of my mouth. And not in a good way. When did that happen?

Look it's to be expected.

Two kids + aging not gracefully+ that bitch gravity= Oh dear Jesus just how fast can I get on Extreme Makeover Spackle edition?

I think large breasts are one of the greatest jokes of all time. Sure when you're younger, they're great. Naturally perky, firm, fluffy like two giant pillows of fun. A wonderland. Twin Toys. But when you get older. Yikes!!!

Let me tell you those B cups aren't looking half bad right now.

I used to have tow have a perfect rack. Disney and Stan Lee combined couldn't have done better. But when did my beautiful twins turn into a set of chain smoking blue haired wrinkled old ladies?

I always thought I'd be one of those people that floated into aging gracefully. A wrinkle here a wrinkle there- who cares? I just didn't think it would start at 37.

I change my mind, I change my mind. Let me off the ride. I want my old body back. One that didn't wake up with a twinge here and an owie there because apparently sleeping is just a little too strenuous. One that could do more than a single push-up. One that didn't consider Yoga strenuous exercise. One with a little less buoyancy in the pool. A little less junk in the trunk.  A little more fear in her rear.

Yeah- I don't know what that last sentence meant either.

Aging- it's not for the wimpy yo.

Boobs