I Put My Sports Bra on Feet First

Long ago, early in my sports bra-wearing days, I came up with an apparently uncommon approach to putting my sports bra on as I dressed for whatever athletic activity I had in store for myself that day.  Instead of wrestling my way into it by pulling it over my head and down from there, I concluded it would be easier to just step into it as I would my underwear and just pull it up from there.  It’s still a bit of a workout for the simple fact of it being really tight fabric, but not nearly the workout that maneuvering that same fabric over my head, weaving my arms into its armholes and then getting it to lay flat across my chest and back would be.

It’s brilliant, really.  Not only is it not nearly the struggle the traditional method is, but coming up from below, it lifts my boobs into place without having to adjust them.  Coming over the top, my boobs are smashed uncomfortably facing down or out or both and typically need some manual adjustment to get them into a more comfortably smashed position.

Now, this method may only work for the hipless, which I have always been and still am, even after two childbirths.  Whenever it’s come up in conversation, my friends have always laughed at me, amazed by something about it… I’m not sure exactly what… I guess either that it works or that I actually do it… or both.

This is my signature thing – I don’t know anyone else who puts her sports bra on feet first.

Ella eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich... Ella style (May, 2013)

Ella’s signature thing is eating peanut-butter-and-jelly or grilled-cheese sandwiches by pulling the two slices of bread apart and gnawing her way through the now “un-sandwich” from the center and working her way toward the crust with the “good” side (i.e. the peanut butter, jelly or cheese side) facing her.

That she does this should be no surprise to me – Ella, now 2+ years old, has NEVER been a neat or skilled (with the utensils) eater.  I regularly watch her set her fork down and grab a wad of rice or noodles with her bare hand and then proceed to shove it into her mouth leaving remnants sticking to her face and falling into her lap with every mouthful.

Last Sunday, as I watched her eat her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich Ella style, questions ran through my head. 

Why does she peel apart her sandwiches to eat them?  To each her own, I suppose.  I used to pull apart my Suzie-Qs when I’d eat them so that I could taste the “good stuff” more with every bite and to make eating one last longer.

Why does she start from the center of the bread and work her way out?  This was answerable – she generally doesn’t like edges of things (crust, apple skin)… not that I understand the why of that.

If she has to eat from the center out, does she have to do so with the peanut-buttered or jellied side FACING her?  This I could not answer.  This is tough to watch and just let happen.  The first bite is the worst because there’s so much “goopy” (i.e. peanut-buttered, jellied) surface area of the bread beyond that which fits in her mouth that inevitably both cheeks, her nose, chin and every space in between are covered with goop as she pulls the bread away to chew her bite.  Every subsequent bite of the now misshapen bread has an inherent risk of expanding the goop further, still on her nose, cheeks and chin but further out.

As one might imagine, her hands are also gooped up.  If we’re lucky, she’ll set her “un-sandwich” down and rub an eye with her hand or, better yet, grab her hair with both hands.  This is generally near the end of her eating of the sandwich, when what remains on her plate are the mangled crusts and oftentimes uneaten goopy pieces.  At this point, I usually have the wet rag ready to wipe, stealthily approach her, slowly raise my hand holding the wet rag to her hands and aggressively wipe them before she has the chance to do any damage with them.

If I sound like I’m complaining, I’m really not.  This is amusing and facinating more than it is troubling.  While that’s true, I also hope that Ella’s signature thing doesn’t last as long as mine has –- could be tough to explain to friends or to boyfriends.  Hopefully they’ll learn about it through stories we tell instead of seeing it first hand.