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March 26, 2010

Udderly Wonderful

Okay, so the title is a bit much. But I have been ABSOLUTELY DYING to use that one ever since I cracked that joke to Jonathan the other day. Thank you. Now I will move on.

So in order to make the title of this post correlate to some aspect of our lives, I feel obligated to discuss my hunt for the perfect nursing bra with all of you. Again.

Remember awhile back when I talked about falling head-over-heels for Allure, a lingerie store in St. Paul, after they ordered a nursing bra in my size? Well, let me complete this long and twisted tale for you...

The bra was ordered and after patiently waiting for two weeks (apart from where I called the store, asking what was taking so long because the word "patience" is not in my vocabulary), it finally arrived! Excited beyond belief, I headed into St. Paul to try it on. Meaning the babe and I were there in record time.

And it was too small, the STORY OF MY LIFE when it comes to bras. Ask my mother who acted as my bra-shopping comrade during my high school years. My demeanor was somewhat lacking in the puppies and rainbows department after our many failed attempts at finding a bra that fit.

After the disappointing news, I headed to the Mall of America for some therapeutic shopping. T-shirts make it all better. Really. You should try it sometime.

After several hours of drowning my sorrows in piles of 100% cotton, I realized that I could wait a little longer until the right size arrived. So I waited.

And waited.

And finally called the store back. The very patient clerk told me that she had been unable to reach the proper company representative, but that the bra would hopefully arrive soon. And the following day, I received the phone call I had been awaiting. IT HAD ARRIVED! [This is the part of the blog where you hear the angelic chorus.]

I tried on bra number two, a pretty little number made by Elomi, and it fit. PERFECTLY. Like it had been made for my Dolly Parton-esque boobs.

And so this nursing bra saga comes to a close with a happy ending for all. The dairy farm has a new home. And the lingerie store will finally hear the end of my phone calls.

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