It’s Fitting.

Tape Measure
Remember my opinion about getting “fitted”?

Well, I took note of all of your comments about how I might be missing the melon boat, and I caved.

And wow – y’all were all totally right. Things have been put back in their rightful home that Ali misplaced three years ago, which makes me feel AT LEAST two and a half years younger.

My life will never be the same.

Granted, it wasn’t a very fun process.

(Insert Here: All of the hilariously awkward details that I WOULD write if this blog had 100% female readership. But since it’s only 99.99% female readership, I chose to edit.)

However, it was worth it – I never knew how poor my own size-estimating skills were.

One word of advice if you decide to go down this path?

Do NOT, under ANY circumstances, take your toddler with you to your Underwire Calibration.

For the past week, every time that Ali can find anything long and skinny that resembles a tape measure, regardless of whether we’re out in public, in the middle of church, or at home, she holds it up to me and says,

”I’m measuring you, Mommy. I’m measuring you for a bra. And I’m seeing how much you weigh. WOW you’re a big girl.”

Aaaaaand….now I’m off to register for The Biggest Loser.