Sausage in a Swimsuit

The only thing I hate more than swimsuit shopping is actually wearing a swimsuit. When you are completely self-conscious about your size or how you look, wearing swim wear can be an anxiety envoking event. No matter the suit, I almost always end up feeling like an overstuffed sausage. Feeling like this then results in two things; the entire time I'm at the pool I feel like every single person there is looking (and laughing) at me, and/or I just don't get in the water.
This second result, is sad. I'm practically a single mother to two amazing little boys. They LOVE swimming. THEY don't care if I'm a size 6 or 16 in a swimsuit. When they are in their thirties, they aren't going to be remember that I didn't like to go to the pool because I felt awkward in a swimsuit. No! They're going to remember that Mommy didn't take them swimming.
<insert a lightbulb here>
How many things have I NOT done, because I let my size or shape negative self image get in the way? How many beach days? Or picnics at the park? How many bike rides? How many times did I just not feel pretty enough or fun enough or small enough or... enough enough? ENOUGH!
Tonight after supper I'm taking the boys swimming. I'm going to stuff myself into my bathing suit. And yes, I'll be uncomfortable, but my boys won't know that. I'm going to splash with them and blow bubbles with them and it's going to be awesome. And when they're in their thirties and trying to figure out what kind of parent they want to be, I hope they'll remember all the times that Mummy did fun things like take them to the pool, or on bike rides, or on picnics at the park.

Breaking Point

Everyone has their breaking point. That one thing that pushes them into action. It can be when that favorite pair of jeans stops fitting right. Or when you notice you're out of breath from doing something like walking up a flight of stairs. Sometimes it's when someone makes a comment. And once in awhile it happens when you finally look in the mirror. Like really look. Clothes off, lights on, so this is what the world sees when they look at me, looking.
I've always been curvy... ok curvy is putting a nice spin on my bumps and lumps... but for the sake of conversation, I've always been curvy. Sometimes my hips bulge out of my jeans. Sometimes my thighs are too big for the shorts I want to wear. Sometimes my tummy jiggles. Ok, a lot of the time, my tummy jiggles. But never have I been large enough to have a fold.
So let me do some Jiggley Mommy definitions for ya:

• Jiggley: parts of the body that may move on their own. Or that keep moving after intentional movement has stopped. It can also be when your have a crazy dance party and you shake all the parts of your body at the same time.
• Curves: Nice, rounded lines of the body.
• Bumps and Lumps: When curves have babies - when the flowing rounded lines of the body become a little less fluid and well... lumpy.
• Fold: When two Bumps and/or Lumps expand and start to hang out...or when one Bump and/or Lump expands and hangs OVER another...

Back to me being curvy. Ok, so in recent years I've been more bumpy and lumpy than curvy, but it is what it is. The other day I was stressing about getting my picture taken - like most mum's I'm behind the camera about 98% of the time. I undressed and stood in the middle of my room and looked at all the clothes that are no longer in season or fashion, all the clothes that don't fit properly, all the cheap 'this will do until I lose the weight' clothes, all the maternity clothes or clothes I could wear when I was pregnant... none of it made me feel good. None of it was even remotely close to pulling on a pair of special jeans that just make you feel HOT. No shirt or tunic or sweater that sufficiently camouflaged my plus sized figure. And then I noticed it. An almost fold. Not a 'sitting down so my body has extra rolls and bulges and what-have-yous'. Nope. A fold on my hip, where the bump of my stretched out belly meets the lump of my [oh so favorite part of my body] hip. Not quite an overhang, but... a fold.
It was like a slap. Sharp. Fast. To the point. It's time to make my health more of a priority. It's time to stop making excuses and getting down about no results. It's time to reach out for support, to ask for help and accountability. It's time to show myself that I CAN do it, if I just TRY. Breaking point, reached.