Yes Chelsea, Part 16 (Patreon)

Olivia Collins, age 37

“Well, since we’ve got the place to ourselves…”

(1)

It turns out that Greg had struck a chord with Chelsea after they had their big blowup a few months ago. For the past several years, she’s been content to just sit around and do whatever she likes while my husband and I watched her baby. Well, for the first couple years at least. Once Tori became more mobile, Chels started pulling her weight and acting like a real mom but even then it was mostly just watching tv and lounging around the house while she bitched about her weight. She and Greg have always gotten along and he really has been good to her, but even he started getting sick of her bullshit after a while and said something.

She moped around the house for a bit and hid in her room for about a week, but when she finally came out again she made the announcement that she was planning on moving out. Apparently one of her friends had gotten her a job at a some high end fashion retail store and she’d even worked out a daycare setup for Tori. With all her ducks in a row, she asked of the townhouse was still available, and was all too happy to take Greg up on his offer to let her stay there for cheap. It was only a month later that she was working and moving out. We’d put each other through a lot of bullshit in the past, but I have to say I’m proud of my lil’ baby bean looking all grown up and professional. I cried when she finally left. Like a lot.

Greg has been the absolute best during the whole transition, and be it because of the pregnancy hormones or just a heavy case of the feels, I’ve been clingy as hell towards him. Not that he minds at all. And it’s not because I’ve been out of my mind horny either. He treats me so well and goes out of his way to rub my feet or lotion my belly or even go in the kitchen and make whatever stupid food I’ve been craving for me. Of course, when he does that stuff, it only makes my hormone-driven attachment to him even stronger and then the pants come off all over again. He’s already told me that once the baby is born he wouldn’t be opposed to me just kinda turning into his sexy trophy wife. At first I was pretty sure he was joking  but now I’m feeling more and more into the idea. 

We’ve actually started talking about it in a semi-serious capacity lately too. This usually ends in more sex because the thought of getting all prettied up and shown off gets me super hot, but I really think it’s becoming less of a fantasy the more I think about it. Maybe I’ll get some work done on my stomach and face. I’m starting to notice wrinkles and it’s not my favorite so why not get the plastic surgery? I mean, it's not like we can’t afford it.

My only stipulations are that I want to make sure I can still take care of the new baby when she arrives, and to be able to do things my way. I know Chelsea’s kinda going through her Barbie blonde pretty mom phase, but I’ve never been content to just play cute and squishy I used to be the witchy hot emo goth chick in high school and frankly, the only reason I gave that up was because I didn’t have the time or the money to keep doing it. If I’m going to devote my middle age (ugh. Barf) to being hot and sexy (yay! Less barf!), then I wanna do it in a way that makes me fierce and maybe even a little spooky.
I want my edge back, and the thought of that happening gets me hot all over again.

Chelsea Richter, age 23

“You’re gonna knock em dead, trust me.”

(2)

Since moving away from home for the second time in my life, I feel like I’ve finally hit my stride. I got tired of my parents pushing me around and complaining all the time, but to be fair, I do realize that a part of that was definitely my fault. I got so caught up in being dumped by my ex and left with nothing but a baby and no job that I just sort of gave up for a while. It felt like no matter what I did I couldn’t motivate myself to do anything for myself. The baby came, but instead of getting my shit together I just went out and parties. I got super fat and just wasted my life away watching tv for a few years until everyone just kinda got sick of my bullshit. By the time my stepdad told me that I needed to get a job and do something with my life I was so fed up that I just kinda freaked out and shut down for a week.

I felt shitty and unwanted. I felt angry and treated unfairly. I sat in my room and threw myself a pity party until even *I* got sick of my own whining. Then something just kinda…snapped.
I didn’t want to be who I had become anymore. Sure, I’d been working out and I was losing a little weight, but I was really only doing that to get skinnier than my pregnant mom. I knew it, she knew it, everyone knew it. I just didn’t want to admit that the only thing I had going for me in life was a petty fixation on being thinner than the person who birthed me. Kinda sad, really when you think about it.

So I decided to move out. I made some calls and my friend Caroline was able to land me a job at a new boutique that opened up in town called Melodia. Apparently her rich aunt was the owner of the store and when she heard the words “single mom” she jumped to get me an interview. I aced it pretty easy since I’d been into fashion retail therapy for like 8 years. Turns out my mom’s attempts at bonding by going shopping  together turned out to be pretty helpful in the long run. That and inheriting her good looks didn’t hurt either.

That’s something I’ve been pretty happy about too. Since I’ve had no one to really compete with and compare myself to, I’ve been feeling a lot better about my appearance. My mom had me stop dying my hair for most of her pregnancy and my roots grew out, so I just cut it and let it grow back in blonde. At first I was really upset and felt like I had lost something special or unique about myself, but after a couple visits to my hairdresser I am really starting to feel my new look. Also, tits. My boobs are huge.
Even though I’m losing weight like crazy, my chest hasn’t really gotten smaller after my pregnancy. My mom was like that too for a long time. I mean, I had always been busty, even as a teenager. I turned about 17 and my chest exploded in size, but D cups at 120 pounds is nothing compared to GGs at 200 (and dropping!).

More than anything, my social life is a thousand times better than before just by virtue of needing to go out to survive. Caroline and I are talking more often and I’ve made a bunch of friends with coworkers and customers alike. At first I was worried that I was being too chatty with everyone, but my boss actually encourages me to talk to everyone. Apparently it’s good for building a rapport with the customers and building brand loyalty, especially since every time I get someone talking, they end up walking out with more than they expected to be paying for. Honestly it’s not even on purpose. I’m not really trying to upsell anyone or anything, I just like playing dress up with the people that come in.

The time at work has been good for me as a person too. I have lots of time to just think and people watch and kinda muse over things in my downtime. It's funny to be on the other side of things, I’ve realized. I spent so much time being such a bitch to my mom for getting fat, and then I ended up bigger than she ever was. Now I’m the single mom working to pay the bills after a deadbeat left me to fend for myself and my kid after he knocked me up. I don’t know if it is despite my attempts to avoid being like my mom or because of them, but I ended up having the same exact story as she did. And I’m not even the only one.

Just the other day I was talking to an absolute sweetheart of a lady who’d come in looking for school clothes for her daughter’s first week at her new high school and all I could think of was how much it reminded me of me and my mom when *I* was fifteen and she would take me out shopping with her. We got to talking and she started telling me that she also got pregnant young and ended up dumped by the guy. Eventually they moved out to California from the midwest just to get away from it. Now just like me, she’s trying to rediscover herself and get in shape while struggling to bond with her own daughter who just kinda wants to do her own thing now.

(3)

I told her about my experience with that and not wanting to feel like my mom’s doll and she seemed to get it. I actually convinced her to buy a few outfits for herself while she was at the store too, which was super good and impressed the hell out of my manager. I never really got to talk to the daughter at all, but that’s all fine. It was just eye opening to realize that I have more in common with moms now than the kids. Plus, hers kept wandering off and spacing out randomly. At one point we found her just sorta standing in one of the aisles with her eyes closed for no apparent reason. 

(4)

Maybe she was trying to astral project or tune into the universe or some new age cringey teen witch shit. I dunno.
Teenagers are weird.