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This week Jack, Grant, his whole fam, and I are at the beach for a week. And I have several cute little fisherman's outfits for Jack to wear.
For myself, however, not so cute. I'm still at that really awkward phase where my clothes "fit" on my body but do not "look good" whatsoever.
That being said, I am so glad that I'm a mom now so I can wear a one piece with no shame. It's not that I intend to let myself go and never lose my baby weight or flabby stomach. It's just that I have always, always, always hated wearing bikinis.
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In what universe is it fun to flaunt your entire body essentially to strangers and friends alike while frolicking in the sand and water - activities which involve lots of moving about and unfortunate jiggling in most cases?
Maybe the universe in which I weigh 100 pounds and am very toned. But that is not this universe.
That being said, can I get an AMEN! that they don't hold adults to the same standards that they do babies by giving them a percentage for their height, weight, and head every time they go to the doctor?! I shudder to think what percentage I'd fall under right now. Off the charts I might be...
So you might find me in shorts, a cover up, or a handsome summer burka on the beach this week, but you will not, I repeat WILL NOT, see me in a bikini at Wrightsville Beach. And if by some freak act your do, be sure to avert your eyes.
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