A Little Pep in my Step with some Junk in my Trunk

(please be advised that the inserted photo is not one of my own ass...OK, read on.)

It should come to no surprise that I have no shame, and there are not many things that embarrass me.....if there were, half my stories would never be told.

The evolution of my underwear drawer has gone a step further. A new, most delightful undergarment has made its way into my repertoire of unflattering wares.

I was recently in North Conway. Although the main reason of the trip was to take the kids on holiday adventures, the outlets were just a hop, skip and a jump away.

During one of the twice daily trips, whereas I spent the majority of my money in Gap, Banana Republic and Coach, I ended up in an underwear store. (If It weren't for a friend of mine, Cathy, whom i was meeting, my new found undergarment and I would've never met..she was bra shopping and asked that I meet her). Unfortunately for our husbands, were were not in Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood. Nope, we were in Maidenform. (which, by the way, might as well be called "Old Maidenform" ) I had absolutely no intention of buying anything (however, my drawers were not paved with no intentions)

Let me start by saying that I have never been a fan of "Spanks". Don't get me wrong...the concept is great, however I am a bigger fan of comfort...and breathing than I am of having skinny thighs...at least most of the time.

Back to Old Maidenform. As I was making my way to the back of the store in search of my friend, Ava was a head of me. I heard her giggling and when I approached her, found her holding onto a pair of padded underwear. Yes, padded underwear. It was similar in shape to spanks without the thigh portion, however with a nice little shapely padding in the rear. My chuckles were swiftly halted by the light bulb that now invisible encircled my head.

I wont lie, I am 36, have had 4 children and wildly fluctuating weight over the years. Couple those facts with the lack of physical activity in my life, and well, my ass hath no fury.

I held them up, and thought...really...is this any different that the under wire, cupped and mostly padded bras I have been wearing since I hit puberty? No. No its not. It a padded butt bra. Period. In true girlfriend mode, Cathy was all for them. Not like my daughter who BEGGED me not to try it on as she had been making fun of them.

"OK, I need to get a true "before" visual. Turn around and let me see your ass" Cathy said. I did as I was told. "You really DON'T have an ass". Thanks Cat.

OK, into the dressing room I went. I pride myself in being a super speed dressing room girl. If I were a super hero, that's what my catch phrase.... "SUPER SPEED UNDRESSER" (that would also be my name if I were a stripper....or in porn)

I whipped off my jeans and began pulling up the butt bra (hereinafter referred to as "the BB). I got just above my knee before the problems began. I already started feeling numb in my upper thigh.....and I was having flashbacks to when I accidentally pulled the undies from the back of my underwear drawer. Finally, the BB was in place. It looked good and I was somewhat wishing it had the thigh aspect. Ava was cracking up so I slapped her in the face. (just kidding)

I pulled on my jeans. I hadn't taken into account the difficulty I would now have zipping and buttoning the jeans with the new, larger rear end.

It took a couple of minutes of me sounding as if I were giving birth before I got the whole package together. I turned to look in the mirror and couldn't believe it. There was actually a definition between my ass and thigh! It was a miracle. I looked like I could have been Kim Kardashian (when she was 9).

I proudly walked out of the dressing room, turned to Cathy and lifted my sweater. She concurred. She said everything I was thinking about my wonderfully shaped derriere. I could tell she wanted to touch it...but she refrained. She could've. I purchased 2 pairs, and in hindsight, wish I had gotten more. On the way to the register, I grabbed a pair of shaping tights for good measure. (this, I would later learned, was a big mistake)

When we got back to the room, I was anxious to try them on with other types of pants. First, wide legged, semi loose fitting pants. Unbelievable. I wanted to NEVER take them off. Next, a pair of black leggings I normally wear with long sweaters or cardigans. Again, marvelous.

Next, I decided to go for the double threat. I opened the control leggings. I scrunched each leg and began sliding them on...one leg at a time. When I got over the knee, the loss of circulation kicked in. I forced them up, figuring the ends justifies the means. Like it wasn't hard enough, I know had to pull them over my C Cup buttocks. It was hard. I yelled to the girls "this isn't working....the leggings are working against my ass bra!! They were trying to suck THEM in too! I was not having any of that, and as slowly as I got them up, I just as QUICKLY yanked them off.

After the trip, and back home to reality, I spent the first two days cleaning and doing laundry. I had almost forgot about my new BB. Until I unpacked looking for a new pair of jeans. I had to go to Home Depot. What better place to show off my new ass then a store geared towards sweaty contractors, right? Yes, I wore them. But honestly, I just wanted to break them in for when I REALLY wanted to wear them.

As a rule, I generally wear longer cardigans to cover what parts I deem not so attractive. My lower half, mostly. However, on this day, i found myself shaking my booty just a little extra as I walked down the hardware isle. Instead of pulling my sweating down in the back every 10 seconds, I was nonchalantly tucking in a tiny corner. The only downside, was that i wasn't able to squeeze my cell phone in my back pocket. A sacrifice I was willing to make.

So thank you Old Maidenform , thank you. Thank you for changing my life. (OK, maybe not my life, but the way my ass looks in pants).

Olivia (Animal Hoarding, Part 23)

Its been a while, although I don't know why...my life certainly hasn't let up any. If anything, it has gotten a bit more hectic of late.

I am sitting here in a dark room, lit only by the lights that adorn my fake Christmas tree. Well, three quarters worth of lights, anyway. You see, the bottom half was destroyed..eaten actually, by Olivia.

As many of you may have heard, there is a new member in my family. Her name is Olivia...a name that took two days to come up with. Olivia (a/k/a Liv, Livers, Baby)is a wonderfully mischievous little 6 month old piglet that I adopted (ok, spent a negotiated $850 on) nine days ago.

Whom you ask, in their right mind, would bring a pig home (hello??????) Ava (10) asked for nothing more than a puppy for Christmas. I came dangerously close to purchasing a long haired Chihuahua a couple of weeks ago during Emma and my weekly field trip to the pet store. It was there that a couple was standing next to us and we began talking. Not caring that they would think me gross, I explained how I had been wanting a mini pig for some time. They mentioned that they had seen an ad on craigslist several months ago, however, it had been gone for a while.

The super sleuth in me took about 5 minutes before I located who would ultimately be my pig broker. Her name was Erin and she owned a little pet store. She had limited information for me except that she could have the piglets in her possession in three days if I wanted to come and take a look see. Are you kidding? The plans to make the 30 minute drive were being made in my head before I hit the end button on my cell phone. More importantly, what and how would I tell Dave. (Eh...I pretty much bought a house before telling him, so in all actuality, this wouldn't really be that bad)

I made the decision to tell him that i was just going to "look" at piglets. For 2 days he asked the same questions....where do they go to the bathroom, where do they sleep, how do they act...etc. Regardless of how many times he asked the same questions, I simply kept my cool and answered "Dave...it is just like a dog or cat...except its a pig" A concept he could simply not grasp. This is what I convinced Ava of as well, as her dreams of a puppy had been crushed by my own pig dreams. (in my defense, since the day I got married, I had made NO secret about my eventual pig ownership)

The day arrived. In one way I wanted Dave to come so that he could understand... on the other hand, I knew he would be a negative energy, so when he got a better offer for the afternoon, I was secretly relieved.

I packed the rest of the family in the car, including my friend (as I needed another adult to confer with). It took approximately 35 minutes before we arrived at the location. We all jumped out of the car with anticipation.

As we entered the store, three piglets went running across the room...they were smaller than Spooky (my cat). They were grunting and running...and skiddish. I flashed back to my teen years when I loved Olivia, my first piglet whom I loved. I had forgotten how cute they were and how much I really liked them.

We spent a good half hour there, however, it only took 30 seconds before I knew one would be mine. There was a plumpy black girl with a white blaze on her nose, a pink boy who did nothing but feverishly hump the store owners leg, and Olivia...who was the smallest...black with white legs. (sort of like me in the summer)
(I wont lie, I chose the girl with the white blaze...however, her price was less negotiable.)

Erin informed me it was a cash deal. I told her I had to get to the bank, get some stuff together, and call her with a time I would be back for her. It seriously felt as if I were buying an illegal child on the black market. Obviously, with my personality, I wasn't halfway home before I knew I was going to get to the bank and go back immediately. I dropped the girls off. Dave was not home. I told them I had to run to the market. Matt and I grabbed a cat carrier, a blanket and a withdrawal slip and off we went.

While in the store, I was getting the necessities. Food, a crate, pee pee pads. The little pink boy was being overly rambunctious. Before I knew it, he was violating my new baby. Matt and I literally watched a rape...an incestuous one at that. I yelled at Matt to do something...he chased the boy off her and Erin apologized. Really? I was seriously pissed....and felt like I needed to take her to my feelings doctor...or pop a xanax in her feed.

We drove home...and I could hardly believe that I had a pig in the car. Next, was getting her in the house as inconspicuously as possible. I somewhat wanted Dave to miss the fact that there was a pig in the house. Moreover, I was afraid my parents would find out. What had I gotten myself into. Either my parents or my husband was going to kill me. Then I remembered that I am a grown woman and I can do what I want. (right?)

I got the crate with Liv in it, up the porch stairs and plopped her in the living room. The girls were hysterical. "Is Daddy home?" I asked. Yup.

I heard the footsteps coming. All I heard was "You're kidding right....there is not a pig in here...right?". Ummm......I opened the cage and out she flew like a bat out of hell. Her little hooves slipping and sliding on the hardwood floors. Not anticipated was the fact that Dave, in addition to being a bit pissed, would be scared of her. This just added the cherry on top of the ice cream in MY eyes. It was like a funny little bonus. By the end of the night, he loved her too.

The first night was hairy (no pun intended). Although we could not pet her, she had made her safe place under the kitchen table and as night came, it was apparent she wanted a warm body to sleep next to. Being the loving person I am, I curled up on the blanket to lay with her until she was asleep (this was after I had nursed Emma to bed) Matt's girlfriend passed and thought it odd that I was not with Emma. As she asked "are you still breastfeeding Emma", my tired brain thought she was suggesting that I nurse the pig. Lines, Ashley, I have lines. (not many...but some)

It took several days for Olivia and I to get accustomed to one another. I quickly learned that she was not pee pee pad trained, as otherwise told to me. However, unlike the rest of the animals in the house, I have to clean up after her given the circumstances of her arrival here. In doing so, I nonchalantly vomit behind every pig shit I pick up and dispose of. While disgusting as it sounds, I have learned to accept that if anything, I may shed a few pounds until I get her outside trained.
I quickly learned that in addition to being highly intelligent (4th in the animal world) and clean, naughty and busy were also on the top of the list. I immediately felt as if I had cloned Emma...I now have two toddlers to contend with. Both Emma and Olivia get into similar trouble, and both loiter at my feet like hookers at the free clinic. Cupboards are overturned, plugs pulled from walls, paper shredded..... and than the xanax kicks in and I can deal with the two of them like a reasonable adult.

Unfortunately, we only had her for 6 days before we were to leave on a 4 day vacation. A pig sitter was needed and a good friend kindly offered. I gave instructions to the best of my ability. Although I don't think the terrorizing nature of Liv was anticipated. With every check in call Olivia had gotten into some new, and damaging trouble. I couldn't apologize more.

During the last check in call, my friend informed my that she had a nurse friend of her come for a visit. This woman explained that she suspected that Olivia was with piglets. Are you fucking kidding me? (response #1). Hmm....If I got a $1000 a pop, I could make cake (response #2) Wait, will the piglets be special needs considering there dad is there uncle? (response #3)

I had 3 hours to ponder the situation during which time the kids were excited, Dave was SUPER pissed (even though I told him I could birth the piglets in my bathtub and it would be fine) and I had called and made an appointment with a vet ASAP.

I texted a couple of friends in a panic...one of which said she was going to send the "I think my pig is pregnant" text to " textfromlastnight.com". I called my dad in a panic...he hung up on me. I am thinking of buying an EPT and holding it in her urine stream tomorrow. I don't know if it will work though. So, this could either be the end of the story or a the beginning of the TLC/Animal Planet segment of the blog.

In closing, I feel I can only grow from this experience. I can now imagine how Sara Palin felt. And as one person said, I can now add "pig farmer/breeder" to my resume. ( I needed some diversity, anyway) Stay tuned.