The Famous Hervé Leger Bandage Dress…And No, You Can’t Wear Spanx Underneath

In my past life, the one I refer to as “B.C.S,” 60% off and Hervé Leger would be a magically dreamy combination.  Just FYI, “B.C.S.” stands for Before C-Section.

Courtesy of Neiman Marcus

Courtesy of Neiman Marcus

Now, those sales only depress me.

Don’t be fooled.  Hervé Leger’s iconic “hold you in” bandage dress is NOT a miracle corset, no matter what anyone tells you.  They may push your assets up but they don’t hide ANYTHING.  If you have any bit of a bulge (and one too many C-sections will most assuredly result in one of those), save yourself the imminent disappointment and find an empire-waisted option.

Normal childbirth didn’t destroy my midsection.  I had a slammin’ body after Lulu was born.  It’s true, though a little narcissistic.  I looked so much better than I ever did before kids.  And since I was only 31, I barely had to do anything to maintain my figure.  Ahh, the good old days when I actually HAD a metabolism…

But things are very different now.  Lulu’s dramatic entrance pretty much guaranteed that C-sections would become my preferred delivery method in the future.  Next came Cooper, then came George, whose birth clinched the reality that my pre-C-section body was gone forever.  I can do T25 from now until Kingdom come and it has essentially no impact on my stomach.  Couple that with age, and Hervé Leger becomes a fond but distant memory.

It’s okay, though.  I’ve come to terms with it.  I just focus on accentuating other areas now…areas which haven’t been devastated in the aftermath of childbirth and half-hearted attempts to nurse.

I have to admit that every so often, it would be nice to take advantage of those damned sales now that I can actually afford the dresses!

Life’s just full of jagged little pills, you know?

It’s Not Really A Party Unless You’re Defending Your Living Room Against The Chitauri

birthday-candles

Today is full of hearts and love and happiness but it goes beyond the celebration of Valentine’s Day.

Three years and a few weeks ago, I made a call to make February 14 George’s birth date.  I hated the idea, but didn’t have a lot of options.  C-sections are no joke and anyone within her right mind is going to pick a date when the best doctor in the practice is on duty.  That date happened to be Valentine’s Day.

I eventually warmed to the idea, convinced I was having a girl.  She’ll love her birthday!  And we’ll name her Mia Valentina!  How cute would that be?  I embraced the day, rolling into the hospital clad in a red velour sweatsuit.  But alas, I had a boy, a perfect, precious darling little guy.  And I guarantee HE won’t appreciate sharing his special day with Cupid in a few years.

But right now, George is content to share it with his fellow Avengers, Captain “Cooper” America and Lulu the Black Widow.  Cake, costumes, shields, presents and defense of our home against the Chitauri.  Life cannot possibly get any more grandiose for this three year-old.

As for our Valentine’s Day celebration?  Well, we can just table the romance for AFTER the kiddies go to bed.  =)

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