Death by Boob

So let’s cut to the chase; I have big boobs. I am basically two boobs on legs just bobbing around in life trying to get through the day.

I mean, I’m not complaining- I love my boobs and my cleavage but I wouldn’t mind if they were smaller because it would help with losing weight. I would probably lose a hundred pounds and be the weight of a small child if I got rid of some. Those ladies out there with small boobs, you want big ones and I want slightly smaller ones- the grass is always greener. However, let me explain to you my boob struggle.

Problems with the twins:

1) last night I was sleeping on my side and I was trying hard to fall asleep but I kept feeling like I couldn’t breathe. Naturally, with my mental health issues, I thought I was having a panic attack. Nope- it wasn’t a panic attack… my boobs were up so high that they started to strangle my neck and cut off the air to my windpipe. It was a scary moment… I almost went into the white light.

2) to stay with the sleeping issue… You want to feel sexy in the bedroom. However, sexy is not when your boobs fall to each side and hide under your armpits.

3) I do not own one clean shirt.

4) when I take off my bra, half my dinner falls out. BAM…Wasted money.

5) I may be the average size in pants but if I buy a dress, I can’t get my average size… I have to check all the tags for the largest size just to fit my boobs. Have you ever tried to look for the tag in the department store that says ‘tent size?’ I just stopped looking for those types of dresses. Now I save time by going directly to sporting goods.

6) buying bathing suits… it should be some kind of horror movie. I literally go around the store and feel up the swim suit top. Have you ever seen a woman feeling all the cup sizes in the bathing suit department? No? Well, that’s me. And people look at you like you are nuts  Sometimes I compare the boob cup to my face- if my face is too large for the cup, then I can’t get it because that’s how big my melons are.

7) attempted murder. Yeah, the thought has crossed my mind; especially while I was breastfeeding. I would breastfeed my kids and fall asleep out of pure exhaustion sitting straight up in the rocking chair. When I would wake up, my baby’s face would be engulfed in a boob. Sheer panic would set in… ‘can you breath under there? Did you lose consciousness?!’

8) have you ever seen Baywatch? Yeah, I don’t look like that when I run. When I run, it’s called attempted suicide.

9) my kids try to hug me but when they look up at me with their beautiful, brown eyes, they are practically living in my cleavage. It’s like my boobs gently frame their face but it’s less adorable and way more awkward.

10)have you ever been dead asleep and someone is trying to gently wake you up? Yeah… that has never happened. I am literally passed out from exhaustion and my kids are trying to wake me up to do the following: tell me their nose is running, hand me their boogers, show me that their pajamas have pockets and how the pockets operate, hand me earwax, tell me they have to go to the bathroom, ask me if it’s 7am, tell me they are hungry, tell me that they are thirsty and/or that they had a nightmare. And the way they do this is by slapping my boob because it is under my armpit. But they hit me directly on my giant nipple. It’s dark as hell and it’s like they are playing battleship… A2… yes,  direct hit to my nipple… I’m up. Let me hold your boogers and check out those pockets.

Until next time,

Giant boobs can be fun but proceed with caution because they could also kill you.


Published by


I am a mother of three small children with a wonderful husband. Having children is not as simple as black and white. Having kids is black, white and crazy. I hope you enjoy my blog of my crazy escapades.

2 thoughts on “Death by Boob”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s