Before our trip to Florida (and yes, I’m still here), I suddenly realized that I needed a bathing suit. One that would hide my stomach. Because even though the rest of me has slimmed down to normal size, my belly is convinced it’s still pregnant.
So I found a very cute Calvin Klein suit through Zappos. The night before we left, I tried it on and it seemed flattering in the stomach department but I worried that the plunging neckline was a bit revealing. I needed a second opinion. Since none of my girlfriends lives with me (I have no idea why this has to end when you get married), I turned to the next available person. My husband.
Rick look pleased. Now that I think back – he looked too pleased. He assured me that I absolutely did not look like some beach porno star. He said it was perfect.
I now realize that he may be a little insane.
Because a few days later, I wore this bathing suit at my in-laws’ club…
And my breasts popped out every time I bent down to grab something out of the diaper bag or pull out some snacks or pick up a baby. It’s like this gated community suddenly had its own one woman Mardi Gras parade.
I tried to be low key about this. It’s just a breast. No big thing to pop it back in. And this suit happens to be excellent for breastfeeding Chase and Harlowe poolside. I only feed one twin at a time in public but I’m telling you I could easily double breastfeed in an emergency situation with this suit.
I explained my bathing suit issues to Rick who just remarked, “So return it.”
“You can’t return a bathing suit. It’s forever once you wear it,” I explained.
Which I think is exactly what he was counting on.
Okay, enough about my boobs and how they were out and about in Boca Raton. I’m starting to feel self conscious.
So yes, we are headed North soon. There comes a time when you have to hang up your Zumba shoes, put away your skimpy bathing suit and fly home to 14 degree temps. I’m really going to miss it here.