Nipples: Let’s discuss.

I was taking a bath when I was like 8 and my dear sweet mother came in to check on me and saw me squeezing my poor little nipple buds so hard they were purpling. She said such a confusing thing, “Oh honey, milk won’t come from those until you have a baby.”
My girl brain answered in my head, “Um, I wasn’t trying to extract milk, I was doing a commercial in the tub (like everyone does for the bubble bath) and making my nipples really dark by squeezing them super hard and then submerging under the water, letting go of my death nipple grip to show home viewers how this particular bubble bath actually reduces nipple stress and helps your nipples return to their natural non-purpled state.”
Aloud I said, “Moooom!”
The next time I paid real close attention to my nipples (much like you are now) was during that strange winter of preteening when I seemed to only have exceptionally pointy nipples and extremely tardy breasts.
The breasts were very late.
Happy Birthday to Me! Here’s Why I Love Aging.

I am so happy to age.
I am 38 years young today and I am thrilled to be aging. Seriously. I was so over 37 like five months ago. I feel like I have a little version of myself in my head tapping my foot and checking my watch waiting and waiting very impatiently for my next birthday.
And not because I’m all about presents and celebrations. I’m more into my next birthday because I love aging. I love putting to rest a year and opening my heart to how it feels to be in this world with a new age. Yes, yes, and age is just a number blah blah blah.
I’ll bask in 38 now that it is FINally here but I know what will happen: Come January I’ll be like, “UGH! Still with 38? We still doin’ this?” and then I’ll roll my eyes and dream about 39. Read More