April 23, 2012


When you were a baby,
I hated changing you.
Hated the way your legs flailed in protest,
sending shit and foulness flying, defiant.
Hated the way your hands betrayed me
Working their way into the filth as well–
You, the Picasso of poop.
I hated that chore, hated your sheer will
to give me ONE MORE THING
to clean up.
There was always one more thing with you.

Today a stout lady in a green blouse that doesn’t suit her
unrolls a tape measure with brisk efficiency
wraps it around your torso, orders you to stand up straight.
You glare at me, the humiliation of it, but toss back your shoulders.
“32AA,” the woman announces, “although not for long, I gather.”
She raises a knowing eyebrow and I want to kick her in her fat little calf.
We settle on three: blue flowered, purple flowered, sensible white sport.

Shopping bag in hand, we sit on a bench, sun kissing our legs, and eat ice cream.
Your indigo sparkly nail polish is peeling off in shards and you eat slowly.
Nothing is slow about you lately and I feel like that frantic new mother
Grabbing in the dark, exhausted, for your quick hands and thrashing legs,
Desperate to contain them in my arms.

{ 51 comments… read them below or add one }

Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes April 23, 2012 at 5:41 am

First bra? God give me strenght for when the day comes that mine needs one.
Picasso of poop, brilliant!


Stacia April 23, 2012 at 5:51 am

I, too, am a fan of the sensible white sport, though you can’t really go wrong with purple. Grab those nail-chipped hands on hold on tight, Kitch!


Sherri April 23, 2012 at 6:03 am

Love it. As the mother of two daughters – one still a preschooler – the other a sophomore in HS – love it!!! Lump in my throat :).


Jessica Peters April 23, 2012 at 8:19 am

Love it! Amazing how quickly things change. Made me teary.


Barbara April 23, 2012 at 8:44 am

Oddly enough, I did this for my granddaughter. Her first bra. (her dad was unmarried at the time)
Now…she’s in college and, from what I can tell, is probably is a 32 DDDDDDDDDD


Sam April 23, 2012 at 9:11 am

Oh Kitchen, I sit here with my postpartum hormones swinging violently. Tears forming in my eyes, at first because of diaper changing part (I know exactly what you are saying, my only addition would be the stress of getting that tiny butt in the tiny diaper that is too big so that the diaper is on good enough so it doesn’t leak). By the end the tears come because of the scary thought of this day looming in the future. :)

The mothers that appear to enjoy changing diapers amaze me!



TKW April 23, 2012 at 1:05 pm


Congrats on your beautiful baby. And no worries, right now you have an excuse to cry about anything.


Nicki (@NickiLynnM) April 23, 2012 at 9:25 am

Great post! It is amazing how quickly time flies and how many changes happen along the way!


Justine April 23, 2012 at 9:34 am

Oh Kitch, this made me cry. Change is a wonderful thing for our kids as they grow into their own – something we know that as parents we’re here to do. We help guide and shepherd them into the person they will eventually become. Yet when they’re changing and growing right before our eyes, it’s so fucking hard, knowing what awaits us in the end, which is the eventual need to let go.

I don’t think I would ever be ready for that.

God, there must be something in the water today. You’re talking about bras and I’m crying about letting go. Geez.


Aidan Donnelley Rowley April 23, 2012 at 10:04 am

Oh, the picture you paint. Gorgeous and real. Now you have me imagining a day in my future, three days actually. Change is impossible and exquisite and heartbreaking, no? Wonderful to be here reading your words. xox


TKW April 23, 2012 at 1:08 pm


You will be bra shopping three times, won’t you? Oh, boy. Bring along the tissues, because it’s excruciating. Your kid hates the bra lady and she hates you for making her do this humiliating thing and she hates her body for changing and betraying her.

It calls for ice cream. A big one.


pamela April 23, 2012 at 10:16 am

did you write this? so raw and real and beautiful. wow.


TKW April 23, 2012 at 11:28 am

Alas, I did write it. It’s a hard, hard time for me with this puberty thing. :(


amanda {the habit of being} April 23, 2012 at 11:13 am

this is in my future and i am equal parts terrified and equal parts thrilled for her.
beautiful writing…raw and so full details that are usually ignored.

ps: i’d have probably wanted to kick the lady in the shin too ;-)


TKW April 23, 2012 at 1:10 pm


Her fat calf was so enticing. It took all my self-control not to beat the heck out of it.


Kelly April 23, 2012 at 11:15 am

Oh lady. This one welled up fat tears for me. You were me, you were my mother, possibly her mother. So perfect and true. I don’t envy you those years (they’ll be mine soon), but I do appreciate this reminder that my girl and I are on a steam train to the bra department.


TKW April 23, 2012 at 1:11 pm


Why does the bra department always smell like pantyhose? I’d forgotten that.


Arnebya April 23, 2012 at 11:49 am

I know this girl. She is like one who lives in my house who is 11 and stands above my shoulder. She surpassed my 38-year-old 32A last summer. Those are daddy’s genes. I hold on to the neon pink chipped nails on the hands that continue to want to push mine away (and let her know there are still things I need to show her, like how not to wear the blue flowered under a thin white shirt).


TKW April 23, 2012 at 1:14 pm


Miss D. already wears size 8 1/2 shoes. I wear a 6. She’s gonna be an Amazon.


Cathy April 23, 2012 at 12:12 pm

Oh wow! Crazy how time flies and these changes happen whether we want them to or not. Wow, wow, wow – I am SO glad I have boys!


Laurie April 23, 2012 at 12:16 pm

Beautiful! Those moments never really go away, the moments of trying desperately to hold on, do they? I’m glad I don’t have to endure bra shopping though…boys have their own moments, but I’ll gladly skip the bra one :)


alita April 23, 2012 at 12:26 pm

Oh this resonates. It resonates as a mother (frustrated at times) and as a woman (I was young once, right?) and as ironically as a mother of boys. They come with their own set of issues. Now, puberty is a long way off, but I think we have all felt like a newborn mother at times in our life.

This was exquisitely written. Enjoy this time, too. Change is like a hot and bright day in so many ways. Most days it is comfortable to walk about in, but then there are days that we need sunglasses and spa flip flops to relax in and to refresh our mommy hearts.



Belinda April 23, 2012 at 12:30 pm

Oh, this takes me back to my first bra experience. This kind of change can be downright traumatizing. And I don’t think those Victoria Secret catalogs and commercials help…


TKW April 23, 2012 at 1:19 pm

…Change is like a hot and bright day in so many ways.

Such wise words.

I want to feel like that—I do—but all I feel is the hard pang of loss.


Tiffany April 23, 2012 at 2:05 pm

I am right there with you…it is so hard to watch them grow. What’s with the eyebrow about her size? Damn you’re going to have a gorgeous, skinny minx (just like her Mam) on your hands with a huge rack? Damn, TKW. Break out the wine.


Sarah April 23, 2012 at 3:41 pm

I don’t remember that day. The day My wardrobe indicated that even if I was far from Real Woman, I was headed there. What a change that is.

Even as I sit here cursing my three boys, the ones who can’t stop saying “penis” and “my butt is smelly” and “idiot,” I know I’m not equipped to buy a tween bra. There’s a reason I’ve been dealt these three, smelly boys. It’s hard to see on any given day, but posts like these remind me that I’d be scared sh*tless with a girl. Then again, the daydreams don’t stop.


Maria April 23, 2012 at 6:56 pm

Preach it, sister! I will take fart sounds, smelly armpits and constant haircuts to girls.


facie April 23, 2012 at 3:49 pm

A friend sent me here after she commented on my blog post about my kid getting her first bra(s). Of course my kid is only eight and totally does not need one, but she really wanted one. The whole growing up thing is coming fast.


TKW May 2, 2012 at 11:07 am


Thanks for stopping by! My daughter is 10 but was wearing the little undershirt thingys at 9. I knew I was in for trouble.


Rudri Bhatt Patel @ Being Rudri April 23, 2012 at 4:03 pm

This made me cry. I am not sure how I will do.


Natalie April 23, 2012 at 4:57 pm

Yeah. :( That was a really tough day for me, too. I think I’d rather clean poo a while a long…just a LITTLE while, mind you….


SuziCate April 23, 2012 at 5:10 pm

This is fabulous. As a mom of boys I missed out on the first bra shopping…however I did get stuck with buying sport cups!


becca April 23, 2012 at 6:39 pm

I. Have. Missed. You. Your words ALWAYS make me smile. These days, years, minutes sure do fly by. I also only can dream of the infant problems my kids gave me compared to what I endure today. Although bras? NOT ready for that yet. Good luck to you! xoxo


Maria April 23, 2012 at 6:53 pm

Oh Kitch! Bras! The insanity! I hate shopping for underwear for myself. To have to do it for my daughter would be too much. What a shock into reality that must have been! Here’s to hoping that it was a bonding experience and not as traumatic as I envision it! (Thank goodness I will be a mere bystander when my sister goes through this with my nieces!)


Heather April 23, 2012 at 7:05 pm

Boys… I’m so very glad I have boys!!! Not that I won’t have some sort of growing up too fast realization but I’m so thankful that it will be with boys! Oh Dana, hugs to you on this growing up moment.


Kate April 23, 2012 at 7:05 pm

This made me sad, in some ways…the passage of time. Remembering the time when life with little ones was such a hassle, but then the time shoots past and I am staring at the back of my kids as they are off doing their own thing. But I still can get the span of time you have ahead of you with your growing girl. Loved this.


Cyn April 23, 2012 at 7:42 pm

Love it. And “Nothing is slow about you lately” = especially amazing.


Kate April 23, 2012 at 8:09 pm

Holy cow! First bra? It’s one of the glorious (and messy) intimacies that moms are privy to. That day terrifies me. I mean, I want them to grow up, oh yes, but then what happens?

Excuse me while I go hug the baby, even those she was a Pollock of poo tonight. On my nice pants.


liz April 24, 2012 at 4:44 am

Love this kitch. You are so talented it never ceases to amaze me.


Mr TKW April 24, 2012 at 5:51 am

You captured the feeling poignantly, babe.


Paula April 24, 2012 at 5:59 am

You are such a cool mom. I had to beg my mom to take me shopping for a bra after my girlfriends started making fun of me. She didn’t see it.


naptimewriting April 24, 2012 at 10:35 am


That is all. You made me cry.


Caitlin April 24, 2012 at 3:21 pm

What a beautiful post! I love how you captured change in two ways – changing of a diaper and the changing of a girl. I’ve been following your blog for maybe more than a year or so now and even I can’t believe that you are already bra shopping! She grew up fast.


TKW April 28, 2012 at 3:50 pm


Glad you came out to say “hi!” Miss D. grew 5 inches this year and 4 1/2 inches last year, so I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised. But it still slices like a knife…


Jennifer April 25, 2012 at 9:15 am

First bra… Oh my. I’m so not ready for any of that.


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