More Milestones

Friday was our last sports day at MVS . And the last time I have to sit in the sweltering heat/pouring rain/both* (*delete as appropriate). I feel bad moaning but it really isn’t my idea of a fun afternoon out. But, this year I sat with Mrs Lovely and Worders and it was quite nice really. Until it rained. Mrs L had her brolly so we all huddled forward on our seats under it. Little did we realise that the rain was then collecting on our chair seats and making little rivers towards our bottoms. Wet pants. Lovely. But A managed 3rd in the hurdles and 2nd in the relay (both out of 4) so it wasn’t all bad.

Today, A and I went to M&S for her first ever bra fitting. Yes, I know she is only 11 but she is far further along the puberty road than I was at her age and so the time has come to get her sorted out. I don’t want her to be one of those girls that really needs a bra and it is clearly obvious to all that she needs a bra but she hasn’t got one. I booked the appointment online and was able to specify that it was a first bra fitting and hoped that they would be suitably sympathetic to a slightly (ok, very) self conscious girl and her mum. I was not wrong. The lady could not have been more perfect. She was matter of fact, reassuring, thoughtful and just downright lovely. A was soon measured up and a few possibilities were produced for her to try on. The whole thing was over and done in about 20 minutes and she is now the proud owner of 2 lovely size 28B Angel bras. Her size has prompted me to book myself in for a fitting. Surely she can’t have a bigger cup size than her mother?! I am seriously hoping that I have been wearing the wrong size all these years. I’ve studiously avoided going to be measured since I was pregnant with T and went to get a maternity bra; only to be told that they don’t make them in my size (pitiful to be told at 7 months plus pregnant that your boobs have not grown one millimetre) and that I should consider non-wired bras for comfort. Humiliating doesn’t cover it. I am a bit worried now that I have set myself up for a 44 year old A cup inadequacy moment but I am determined to go. Watch this space.

My little girl is growing up and it’s exciting and yet literally terrifying all at once. I had to stop myself from sniffling in M&S while the lovely lady and I were looking for alternative styles in A’s size. It was her fault, she said that she had welled up a bit seeing A’s “little face” (her words) when she tried on her new bra. “Reminded me of my daughter who’s now 22. How time flies.” Please stop. Really not the best thing to say to a hormonal sniffler who’s feeling a little overwhelmed that her baby girl is buying bras.

 

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