Momma Trauma

Last weekend, I experienced something traumatic, something no woman should ever have to go through.  It was an experience that will be burned into my memory forever.  I went swimsuit shopping.

We live an hour from the beach, but we haven't been there in more than two years.  It dawned on us lately that we're crazy.  We used to plan vacations to the beach as a special treat, and now that we're so close, we don't go.  So we decided that next weekend is the perfect time to spend a day in the sun.  The only problem with that is that I didn't own a swimsuit.  I haven't owned one for a long time.  Having children inspires me to do a lot of things, but squeezing my "baby pooch" into a spandex suit is not one of them.

Last Sunday, I headed to my favorite store (Ross...I love a good bargain!) and chose a few to try on.  I decided to go with a two piece "tankini" style that would cover as much skin as possible.  (I found a shorts-style wetsuit that I thought seriously about, but I'm not sure my hubby and kids would want to be seen with me if I wore that.)  I took the suits and headed to dressing room.

Words cannot describe it.  Do they intentionally design swimsuits to hug the ugliest, flabbiest areas of your body?  Ugh.  I think I burned calories just trying to get into the awful things.  I stood in front of the mirror thinking back to my skinny, 120 pound college body.  Back then I thought I was so ugly in a swimsuit...too bad I couldn't go back and trade bodies.  Two babies and thirty-plus pounds later, that college figure looks pretty good...

I was brave.  I was strong.  I picked a cute little striped halter top with black bottoms.  I'm going to find some cute shorts to wear over that and cover a little more of my "pooch."  I'm going to stroll down the beach with my baby flab and my ghostly white legs and have fun with my kids.  If I get jealous of the skinny, tan college kids strolling the beach with us, I'll just remind myself that it's nothing that 15 years and two or three kids won't change...