Remember when geting ready for the pool was just tying on your string bikini, slathering on baby oil and running out the door? I mean, you didnt have to dry shave in the morning of pluck very rogue hairs or rub coffee grains on your thighs to improve cellulite (read that in a magazine).
Your swimsuit was just a piece of shiny material wadded up in your drawer instead of the 9 piece parka with wires, skirt, tummy panel, and bionic breast pads.
The reason I am remembering these days in my quest to get to the pool today. I am hairy and not going to do anything about. I have gone through 3 swimsuits this morning already. One is a tankini with a skirt that i normally wear but i would love to get some sun. One is old and slighty less covered but shows the severe difference in my boob size and hangs on my getting flatter everyday butt. The other i currently have the top on. Is by far the smallest suit i own and is giving me quite the complex dispite was my adorable husband says.
So I am sitting at the computer stretching the bottoms from my toes up to my knee. So when i have it on it doesnt bulge my stomach like a chocolate muffin. Im attempting to keep my almost done nursing boobs in the tied halter top because every time I bend over the right one comes out to say hi (note, i will have to watch this picking up Magnus at the pool). While I am performing this circus act a German girl comes to my door( rings doorbell twice) and tries to sell me kids books as Reese barks in the background. I cant even get ahold of my self and Im STILL not wearing bottom under my shirt.
Needless to say I told her about Usborne books and told her to have a nice day :) kinda...
Well, Im off to perform amazing feets at Toddler time