The Things We Do for Love

I had to confront one of my biggest fears today.

I signed my son up for swimming lessons this afternoon, and in the process, he saw the happy place that I have worked so hard to keep hidden.

The public pool.

Have I mentioned that we are currently living in the town I grew up in?  Well, we are.  And I didn't go to the public pool when I had the 16-year-old body to do it, and I certainly don't want to now.

But he does, and he stood at the fence with huge tears rolling down those big, brown eyes, and asked if we could please go swimming and could he wear his new Spiderman swimming suit?  I looked at all of the tan,  skinny cuties running around in bikinis who probably don't eat cheese fries as a food group, and I bought a pool pass.  My baby wants to swim, and he doesn't care that mommy has Irish skin and waddles these days.

I've got 3 things going for me here:

1.  I'm not on the prowl for a man, and my husband is aware that my legs are glowsticks and I'm somewhat large these days.  He's responsible for the latter.  So, seriously, who am I trying to impress?

2.  I bought a hot pink hat.  I can totally go to the public pool now that I have my hot pink hat.

3.  I think I can get away with keeping the large, flowy cover-up on the whole time.

So off to Target I went to buy some sunscreen, a maternity bathing suit and a pool floatie.  We are in business.  I can go to the public pool.  And, if I run into someone from high school, I'm gonna smile and toast to this season in life;  the season that took me out of the insecurities of high school, and put me into my big 'ol bathing suit with my 3-year-old that makes me forget that I cared in the first place.