Gentlemen, avert your eyes….
Today, while in Target, I had this moment of awareness and horror as I realized that Maura is pretty much out of girls sizes, and plummeting into puberty. Puberty is scary enough with a normal child, but in Maura’s case, I may become a full-fledged alcoholic by the end of it.
I realized, as I stood there in the girls section looking at new and improved comfy sports bras that Maura had outgrown the largest size. I found myself in the intimates department, wandering about with a dazed look.
There are barely guidebooks for taking your normal daughter bra-shopping. There’s nothing about taking your not-very-verbal, delayed, doesn’t understand the idea of just trying on stuff daughter bra shopping.
Does anyone even talk about it?
Okay, I understand why most don’t. You want to respect your child’s privacy. Just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re not aware of what’s being said about you. But Maura’s been different in that way. She doesn’t know, doesn’t care, isn’t bothered by what I write.
So I thought I’d write about this.
My plan is simple –
I know how to measure for bras. I’m hoping we can get away with easy sports-bra type stuff, things she can get on and off. None of those tiny hooks if we can get away with it. I’m praying fervently that she doesn’t take after my side of the family (we’re quite bosomy, as my grandma would say.)
I am also hunting down all the “comfort” styles, the cami’s with the built in bras. These could be our friends. Kohl’s stocks these pull over bras that could work. I shall measure her, hunt down stuff without her, try them on at home and see what works.
And hopefully, I won’t kill my liver in the process.