Iron and underwire

Today I went to see The Iron Lady, followed by nursing bra shopping.  I have to say I’d read so many scathing reviews of this movie that I was shocked by how “un-bad” it was.  I mean, it’s a bio-pic; there’s not much you can do there except get someone to do a great impression of a famous figure.  The only truly great bio-pic I can think of is “Raging Bull”.  But I did kind of enjoy the movie and thought it was well done.  One funny thing that sort of stuck in my craw though was the huge importance placed on the husband figure.  The movie *sort of* implies she would have been nothing without him – or at least makes him this huge looming figure in her life, when she was Prime Minister, for crying out loud.  I would have liked to see more of Meryl Streep/Margaret Thatcher kicking ass than being old and scared and crying out for her deceased husband.  It made me wonder had she been a man, would they have made a movie so heavily about the spouse…?

Afterwards I exhausted myself trying on maternity bras.  As with all things maternity, I have no idea if I will live to rue the choices I made today.  I opted for soft and comfy as opposed to supporting and underwire.  I can always go back and get underwire later; for now I just need to know they’ll be comfortable and have room to grow, since I spend the majority of my time at home not having to look glamorous anyway.  I was hoping to get a compression garment as well but just didn’t have the money.  I may use my Amazon gift card for that, and again, just guess, and take a chance that whichever one I buy will a) fit and b) work.

So for now I am going to rip off my cutting, too small pre-pregnancy underwire bra and slide into something more comfortable, then spend a lovely Saturday evening on the couch with the dog eating black bean tacos and watching bad TV.  Sounds like a perfect Saturday night to me!