Thursday, August 30

This is the number six

Some of the nice and kind folks that commented on my guest post over yonder, asked what would rank higher than a three on my scale for my embarrassing moments.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, go over yonder and read an an example of a three over at Her Bad Mother's blog, I'll wait.

All done?

Good. So now you know that a three is we can move right along because I've found a six in my ol' memory box thingy on my shoulders.

It is not a long story and I know I'm not the only one who has done this SO PLEASE share with me. It will make me feel so much better and perhaps less 6-ish about the whole thing. And all depending on your support (see how I transferred all that responsibility onto your shoulders?) maybe, just maybe, I'll even downgrade this to a 3 or something more manageable.

*** so our scene opens with a recently post-partum frazzled new mommy***

OK, so I had this baby right?

And after I had this baby I lost interest in my appearance for a while.

The only thing I cared about was dealing with this little human who seemed completely dependent on me. And sleep. I cared a lot about sleep.

And the only things I thought about post-partum were "WTF just happened?" and "OMG I want to sleepzzzzzzzzzz-wah... I'm awake, I'm awake...zzzzzz".

These thoughts occupied my mind with such a world's-worst-roomate kind of quality that my fashion sense moved out.

I spent days in a small rotation of stretched-out pyjama pants and nursing shirts. The term sleepwear ceased to exist in my realm (or is that fiefdom?).

This loss of fashion sense soon spread to my ability to dress.

Shirts seemed to more trouble than they were worth. The pulling over the head thing fifty times a day - all done for fear of smothering suckling child, yes... well that pulling over the head thing was becoming a major pain in the butt. It was eating into my sleep time.

So I did what any smart lady would do, I stopped wearing a shirt for the majority of the day. Who cared? Not me.

It became such a norm for me that I didn't even notice one day that I had answered the door for the delivery guy - and I wasn't wearing a shirt. I was just wearing a nursing bra. Unhooked.

*** and scene ***

And why doest this common (oh please let it be common) event rank a six? Because it happened multiple times. And I'm 90% certain it happened to the same delivery guy more than once.

Please stay tuned to this channel for more titillating tales from Motherbumper's Scales of Embarrassment.


cerebralmum said...

I would sit in the lounge with my breastpump (Cas couldn't feed himself because of his cleft palate) with the curtains wide open and I would be infuriated if anyone came by and I had to dive behind the couch. I didn't answer the door like that. In fact, I just didn't answer the door.


Kyla said...

Oh MB! Hilarious. He probably thought, "This is the strangest way I've ever been hit on." or "Where can I get one of those awesome peek-a-boo bras for my lady?" LOL

Did he acknowledge it at all? Polite throat clearing? A whispered, "You've got a nip on the loose there, Ma'am." Anything?

This one is funny.I don't have a similar story to share, or I most definitely would.

NotSoSage said...

I wish I could ease your mind, there, friend, but I can't. The sad reason is that even in full-on nursing mode, I didn't really need a count yourself lucky. :)

Mrs. Chicky said...

Oh man! That's funny. I wish I could commiserate but I never flashed the delivery guy... Unintentionally.


Two Shews said...

Uh, yeah. Did it once. (Actually, it was no bra, button down shirt unbuttoned for nursing, 100% full boobage. I had planned to mask with my baby but he lurched over suddenly.) Mine was the local Baptist welcome wagon, congratulating me on Christ's latest addition to our family, and warning me that my newborn's soul was in mortal peril.

So I wasn't even a little sorry, or embarrassed.

Rusti said...

I haven't had kids yet - but could totally see myself doing this! LOL! Thanks for sharing :)

My blog isn't nearly as entertaining as yours - it's pretty boring actually - but if you have an inclination to read it I'll send you an invite - read or don't read at your convenience.

mamatulip said...


Truly. You are.

Chag said...

And then all the delivery guys started fighting to see who got to deliver all future packages to your house!

Tracey said...

Ok, I never did that, but I recall wearing the same clothes for longer than was recommended, smelling to high heaven, and then realizing that I was the stinky one at the door...

nomotherearth said...

I wore my shirt open a lot, but I don't think I flashed any delivery guy. My inlaws got an eyeful though. Lucky them.

Alley Cat said...

Uh, yeah,... sure that happend to me...all the time...uhhhh, not really. What's the deal with all the deliveries though?

mothergoosemouse said...

That is awesome.

I once got all set up to pump at work - bare breast, paraphernalia at the ready - and noticed that my office door was wide open.

But nobody saw. That I know of. And if anyone else knows different, please don't tell me.

Oh, The Joys said...

Dorks UNITE!!

(I totally typed Dorks UNTIE! first.)

Jenifer said...

Ok I have one for ya....

See ever since I came back to work after Cayden was born I have fir into my same work uniform pants (barely). We wear the same uniforms as our paramedics and can often be mistaked for cops (minu the gun). Anyways the pants are tight and all day I sit behind a console and the belt digs into my, fat rolls. So by the time I get in my car to go home I usually unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants. At least I can be comfortable for the 40 minute drive home right?

Well except that on 4th of july this year someone ran a red light, I slammed on my breaks, and a police officer rear ended me. I was so frazzled by what had happened that I had been standing outside jy car talking to the 3 COPS AND SEARGANT that was there before I realized my pants were undone.........

I would call that an 8, at least, don't you think?

Heather said...

Too funny! Sorry, never did anything like that...I was always worried someone would get a peek...not that it would be that exciting anyway.

Gabriella said...

Too funny! Waiting patiently for the next # on the scale. Thanks for the laugh!

something blue said...

Oh I'm sure that would have happened to me but unfortunately my first wouldn't latch and the second time around I had a zilch for milk supply.

I'm with you on the sleepwear. Every night I would remove a few items of clothing and then the next morning the same pieces were my staples. Recycled momwear. It's kind of like buying shampoo and conditioner 2 in 1 bottles.

Lady M said...

Too funny!

I've definitely got some uh, nursing clothing variations that I'd rather not remember.

Lisa b said...

Can't say I have done that myself but I know other women have. That is hilarious.
Now that I think about it one of my major problems on mat leave is that I live verrrrrry close to the school where I work. Everytime I woud leave the house in my pjs, unshowered etc. I would run into a colleague or student.
At least you don't have to try to ressurrect your professional image with the delivery guy?

stephanie said...

But was he a CUTE delivery man? That makes all the difference...

Sorry, I've got nothing right now. I'll search my blocked memory bank and report back.

JamesMommy said...

Oh, I can top you. Not only did I accidentally flash my own father and my father-in-law during that "awkwardly new to breastfeeding" stage, I had this happen:

A truck ran nearly head-on into my car one workday and we blocked a busy intersection. Someone called the police. Well, as it happens we ended up with about 7 or 8 police vehicles from various jurisdictions, the fire chief's car, a fire truck all loaded with firemen, and an ambulance. I was all WTF? This wasn't a bad accident in the sense that no one was hurt, nothing was on fire, etc. Our cars were disabled but that was about the worst of it. I was ticked off as I had just gotten this car (which I could barely afford as I had also just gotten divorced) and I was pacing up and down the sidewalk. Finally, this older man from the ambulance comes over with a huge safety pin and says, "Here honey, let me help you." And I had no idea what I needed help with.

Well, you need to know that that morning I was in the need of a little boost of feminine confidence and choose this little black, lacey all-in-one teddy-like undergarment for that boost. My suit had a top that zipped up the front and did not require a blouse. Now, back to the story.

When the guy came at me with a gigantic safety pin I had no idea what he thought I needed help with. I looked down only to discover that the zipper of my top had been blasted by the air bag. So there I was, all in my black lace over 36D glory, pacing up and down this busy sidewalk with enough emergency workers standing around watching to have taken care of a minor international disaster. The firemen actually protested when I turned around (why I had to turn my back to do this, I don't know) to pin up my shirt. Needless to say, all of them emergency workers minus the one cop that was writing the report all drove off within 5 minutes or so of the appearance of the enormous safety pin.

What should we rate this?

Bitsy Parker said...

Laughing! My SIL has a similar story. She was tired and nursing and answered the door. As she signed for a package, she realized that she had leaked all over the front of her shirt. She was too tired to care.

kittenpie said...

Wow. Bet he BEGGED for that route... Hey, I've seen you in a bra, I know of what I speak. ;^)

And Misterpie enjoyed this one, too. In an "oh dear, how terrible for the poor girl!" kind of way.

daysgoby said...

I flunked breastfeeding but tried hard the first time. Three weeks after the first child, I am quietly sobbing (this doesn't work! I'm...broken!) when my sister-in-law, her husband, and my father-in-law come in to meet the little bundle....I hand over Cass and he (predictably) starts bawling. So they hand him back and I unthinkingly whip out the boob and start mushing it in his face, trying to GET THE DAMNED THING IN. I try. I try. I switch boobs. I hold him new ways. Suddenly it occurs to me that I'm sitting there nekkid from the waist up directly in front of my father-in-law (who hasn't had sex or seen anyone naked since the seventies) and my scarlet-faced brother-in-law, who is suddenly ACUTELY INTERESTED in the cat. The cat is astonished that SUDDENLY everyone LIKES HER.

After that, the family started prefacing everything with 'Yes, B's wife? She's from away, and they do things differently there..'