keep swimming momma

We had Luca's first swimming lesson Saturday. I won't even get started on how that is possible because that is not what I'm here to chat about today. Did you know that it's easier to get tickets for Adele than into a infant swim class? It is.

Anyways, We are headed to the beach this summer so I had already been through postpartum bathing suit shopping. Finding one I didn't hate wasn't as terrible as anticipated but it shows a bit more up top than I thought appropriate for the ol' YMCA. So I found a much more appropriate and less flattering one for these weekly lessons. All last week Nick would talk about how excited he was for the first lesson and every time my mind went to having to put that bathing suit on. Damnit. I was robbing myself of this excitement and experience. I realized this and hated it but that didn't make it stop. I remind myself how freaking blessed I am to have been able to grow a human. I was not blessed to be one of those people that just bounced back like it never happened. Have you seen my kids thighs?! I thought I was ravenous when I was pregnant, that was nothing nothinggggg compared to my breastfeeding hunger. One of my insightful friends reminded me that my body isn't really mine right now and what a beautiful sacrifice that is. I can look at her and feel that way, but when looking at myself, why can I not give myself the same grace?

If you've never had the pleasure of visiting the zoo that is the family locker room I can assure you that most likely no parent is worried about what any other parent looks like. Everyone is wrangling their own monkeys. I thought I spotted the husband of an old friend that had a baby around the same time as I did. Instead of being excited about a potential familiar face I had an instant knot in my stomach because thanks to Facebook I know she looks amazing. Again, robbing myself of joy. Ugh. 

Nick and I were the only parents to both accompany our kiddo into the pool. This wouldn't surprise anyone that knows us, but it did surprise me that we were the only ones. Enough that I had to ask the instructor if we were breaking a rule.  The majority of others were brought in by their dads. I noticed this only when counting to see if were in fact the only dipping duo.

There obviously could have been plenty of reasons that the mommas weren't in the pool. Plentyyyyy. Feeling uncomfortable in a bathing suit might have absolutely nothing to do with it. I could be SO totally wrong (and god I hope I am) but I am inclined to think otherwise.

Here's the thing. I couldn't tell you about any other person in their bathing suit. I probably couldn't pick a single other person in that pool out of a lineup. I was so wrapped up in my little man. I'm so glad I got over myself and got in that damn pool. 

I'm not proud to share any of this but I know I'm not alone. We are our own biggest critics and we need to cut this shit out! Oh mommas, we grew people. Living, breathing, laughing, swimming little people. We're superheroes no matter what size swimming suit you're rocking this season. Don't you forget it. Get in the picture, get in the pool because this moment will pass with you in it or not. Be in it! 


How freaking awesome is badass momma Emily Quinn Brumback from Indiana?! She posted this pic of her Wonder Woman suit that she'll be rockin this summer. I want to be like her, won't you join me?!