Denial of the Swimsuit Variety....

Do you hate trying on swimsuits as much as I do?  I would say I doubt it, but this is an area where I think all women agree, regardless of body type or age.  That makes it a rare subject indeed.

I recently lost my favorite swimsuit of at least 8 years.  Maybe 10, even, but since my babies are now 16 I have lost the handy trick of remembering things by whether they were born yet or not.  It was an old suit, at any rate, but a GOOD one.

It was a tankini, two pieces but the top came clear down to the top of the bottoms.  One pieces either are 1)too short in length for me, and nobody likes a wedgie or 2)give me a lot of extra room in the bottoms for a derriere that I have never had and mostly flop around loosely, exposing me to all and sundry.  I have to move to a different state after something like that, so you see how important a good swimsuit is to me.

So those are usually out. ;)

And bikini's have been out for me since about age 23, from modesty and body image nightmares.  Those nightmares were nothing compared to what they would become after carrying twins and gaining over 100 lbs.  How much over, you might ask?  I don't know!!  I never did want to know!!   The best Dr. in the world, Dr. Green, came in and apologized to me for cutting me up and down on my C section instead of across.  I literally laughed out loud and told him not to worry one second about that. No one had seen my naked stomach for years unless they were intimately involved with me and had signed a non-disclosure agreement ( I kid, I kid).  I let that go, actually cut it loose and let it sink in the river of life.  It was a long time ago and I haven't looked back.  Score one for me!

 Besides that, once I was a mother I just never could do that again.  Being a "sexy mom" was a concept that struck me as just plain WRONG at the time, and I've never changed my mind. Thank God for that!  Mother's derive their beauty from dignity, make no mistake. Please, for the sake of your children remember this.  No child goes to sleep at night and cries for a more "sexy" mother. Not a one of 'em.  Ever.  None.

*cue small rant*
One of the most painful things I've ever witnessed is women who get caught up in that whole crazy thing and then end up humiliated and alone when their child lovers leave them.  Then they act all sad and confused and angry. Exactly like they haven't raised kids and should already know all that!!  What mother does not know that kids can't make up their minds?  What mother counts a 25 year old as an adult, unless that 25 year old is another mother????  I don't care how good looking he is--it doesn't even matter. He is still a child!!  Dangdest thing I have ever seen!  But I am wandering again. Demi, I don't want to single you out but you are just the first one who came into my head, gather up your friends and if you have an opening for a life coach, I am all yours. Call me, maybe?  How could I possibly do any worse???  Life can be great without a 25 year old boyfriend, woman. Most of us have known this since the ripe old age of about, um, 25.  Just sayin.
*rant over*

Where was I?  Oh, yes, swimsuits and the agony they represent to us.  Tankini's, in case you do not know, can be bought in separate sizes, so you can actually get a top and a bottom that fits, which is quite wonderful.  Don't get too excited, because they still show all the cellulite on your legs, but still......the tankini is my first choice these days.

So I finally got to get a little sun while I was "lost", and I spent some time floating in a pond in my dearly beloved old suit.  I made myself, at one point, swim all the way across the pond to retrieve an errant paddle boat, not just because my boys had not tied it up properly but because I really needed the exercise.  This was possible only doing a side stroke because of my bad knee, but I did it and felt very good about it.

Because of this, when I got home and discovered a black, tarry substance stuck to my skin, I assumed that I must have swum through something in the pond.  Denial is our first form of self-defense, always.

After I got out of the shower I found the black, tarry substance was stuck to my skin.  REALLY stuck good.  I rubbed it with a towel but all I did was make my skin red.  I thought I must have swum through some water in which some tires had decomposed.  Why did I think that?  Probably because it was the only excuse readily available that would allow me to not worry about buying a new swimsuit.  It was summer and I was giving myself a break.  So I promptly forgot about it and I threw my favorite old swimsuit right in the washer.  This one had taken all the abuse I could hurl at it for years. It was  a great suit.

A couple of days later I found another bunch of the black, tarry substance around the back of my waist and the thought crossed my mind again that I should stay out of that pond, but there was a niggling little voice in my head that was already arguing this point.  It didn't make good sense, but I sank back into the sands that run by the river of Denial and didn't sweat it.

A couple of weeks later I was in the same swim suit at the same pond again, but this time I didn't get in.  I sat in the warm sun for a couple of hours before I noticed a very uncomfortable, sticky feeling right around my waist.  It felt like the rubber strip around the waist was melting on my skin.  It hurt a little bit.

"AH HA!!" I thought!  And I looked down and adjusted the waist of my suit.  When I did this I actually saw a big chunk of the black rubber line that is there to keep your waist band from straying come off the suit because it was MELDED to my skin. The river was receding and I was all alone in the sand with my best suit sticking to my body for what would be about a week.  Reality had found me.

Sadly, I realized that 1) my old standby was deteriorating and would need a decent burial and 2) I was going to have buy another suit.  NO!!!!  ANYTHING BUT THAT!!!!

I was very sad about both of these things, but my course was clearly set out for me.  It had been such a good summer up until this point.....

And that is how stupid I was during the month of July this year.

The good news is that rubbing alcohol will take off rubber that has melded to your skin.  Soap and baby oil will not.  I used the soap and baby oil in vain for several days while in denial, one of my favorite states that I don't get to spend much time in anymore.  I miss it, they were some of the happiest days of my life.

The bad news is that I have to buy another swimsuit.  I don't even know when I will find the courage to do this, and as it is August, I'm not going to worry about it this year. Next year I may lure my daughter into a bar first and then make her go with me. Then when I break down in tears we can blame the alcohol.

Maybe I should just go ahead and pitch an idea for rubber suits with skirts, for modest older ladies who dread wearing swimsuits more than speaking in public.  I think there's a market for it.  Don't you?