I'd suspected, when I asked for suggestions for today's blog post, that amongst many intellectual and thought-provoking topics I might also receive a suggestion to write about a certain little topic that still never ceases to fascinate . . . a little topic beginning with an, 's' and ending in an, 'x.' (No prizes for guessing . . . ) ;-)

I hadn't, however, banked on receiving only suggestions to write about sex and all the sub-topics that a bit of bedroom-action encompasses. I received tons of responses and not one of you suggested i write about politics, current affairs or science, (thank god!) So yes it would appear that you fine people are all a little bit dirty underneath it all.

Well today i am going to beat around that bush, (after all I am eight months pregnant and talking about my own antics doesn't seem all that appropriate at the mo, Mum, Dad - you may now breath a sigh of relief!) instead I have picked a closely related subject which i reckon should still delight.

So boys and girls I invite you all to think for a moment about the area between your navels and noses - that's right , Boobies! (Or moobs if you're a boy!)

A.K.A Bosoms, Bazookas, Coconuts, Fun-bags, Jugs, Knockers, Melons,  Puppies, Tits, Whopper's (or whichever you prefer - please feel free to add your own . . . )

Whilst my own bad-boys don't quite qualify for the Guinness book of Records, they are pretty impressive, even if i do say so myself . They are perhaps a little larger than I would personally prefer, (yet again another joy of pregnancy,) but overall, when shape, texture and characteristics are taken into account my personal pair have proven to be rather valuable.

You see in my opinion having the perfect pair has very little to do with size. I definitely don't think the term, 'bigger is better,' applies to boobs, nor do i think smaller boobies are more desirable. I heard once that the perfect size was, 'about a handful,' but of course this all depends on the size of the hands ;-)

I guess we all have our preferences and nowadays it's so easy to exchange what Mother Nature gave you in favour of a shop-bought pair. You can pick and choose the shape and size, you can even have a say in nipple position, if you so wish. It's as easy and addictive as shoe-shopping, (though less fun I imagine.)  

Statistically I read somewhere that women who have been under the surgeons knife once in pursuit of the perfect knockers almost always visit a second time. Whether that's because perfection wasn't quite obtainable the first time, or that a woman's perception of perfection simply changes I do not know. But I'm guessing that like most things in life the boobs aren't always better on the other side.

So are fake boobs as impressive or as desirable as their Real McCoy counterparts? Well i guess it's just a matter of opinion. But personally I am always more impressed by a pair of cracking Au Natural knockers. I suppose i find Mother Nature's handy-work even more exciting that the skills of a surgeon. That's not to say I can't appreciate the beauty of a good old pair of fake baps though, because I so can. They defy gravity and have a pertness all of their own, those qualities alone are enough to make splashing the cash seem extremely viable.

Isn't it amazing though, how much time, effort, energy and money we invest into this area of our bodies? Over the years, since my pair made their first appearance, (way back at the tender age of eleven, much to the delight of my male school friends,) I reckon i must have spent literally thousands on pinky and perky.

Then there were the exercises we all did, (usually in the changing rooms before PE) - the ones with the little rhyme . . .'We must, we must, we must increase our busts. The boys, the boys, they all depend on us!' lol Ahem. Oh the shame.

There are so many gadgets and gizmo's one can purchase to make their chests more appealing. From chicken fillets (you know the fleshy boobs you pop in to enhance your own baps,) to Wonderbra's, (a friend of mine used to say that the Wonderbra was so called as when you take the bra off the boys WONDER where your tits have gone.) - And let's not forget the fake nipples, (as demonstrated by the fabulous Samantha from Sex and The City.) Bizarre, but apparently desirable nevertheless.

So what about when you have to bid farewell to your former fun-bags as they take a brand new route in life? What about when you have babies??

No longer are they weapons of seduction. No longer are they the sexy bundles of fun they once were. Instead they become little more than huge and uncomfortable milk-bearing udders.

I've yet to reach that moment, but i know it's coming. I've already experienced the bizarre, (though fairly humorous) incident of producing my own breast-milk for the first time. Once when my darling daughter was born over 5 years ago, and more recently after the devastation of losing my son Harrison in August last year. To be honest I'm not looking forward to my third experience.

This time round I'm committing myself to breastfeeding (and expressing the milk into bottles - which sounds like a recipe for disaster, yet should be highly entertaining at the same time.) - As a Mumma I'm feeling fairly confident about it, but as a woman i can't help but think my boobies and all their glory may be things of the past in just a few weeks time.

Pray for me won't you? Pray that I never have to end up with a cleavage that one could drive a bus through. Pray that pinky and perky do not decide to head south for the winter, (no indeed any other season for that matter.) Pray that, at 25, i still have a few years left of enjoying the cracking crew!

Time will tell, but I'll keep ya posted! In the meantime do take care of your own Babylons won't you! ;-)

Steph x 
  

P.S Why do men hve nipples?? Answers on a postcard please!

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