I had the task tonight of purchasing a much overdue bathing suit. The last time I purchased a suit my mother was still alive and joined in the adventure at Nordstrom in Mission Viejo. That was five years ago. My suit has gone through numerous "nearing the goal weight" cycles, another child, more breastfeeding. The poor suit has served me well. But my daughter so tactfully pointed out, "Mommy (she uses this term when being sweet), I think your suit has shrunk and gotten tired. You may need a new one that won't shrink."
Now my weight hasn't changed much overall. It hasn't improved overall, either. But we are careful not to stress fat and thin; but rather healthy and not healthy. I'm walking for a couple of miles each and every day, I eat my veggies, proteins, etc. but my weakness, as you've read, is cake and everything associated with items of flour - cookies, cupcakes and their friends fudge and caramel. This does not help us change the size of the new suit.
We hadn't had much time this week with just the two of us. We actually figured it had been weeks and we were really ready for girl time. We fled the house after dinner without giving the males in the house the option to join. I needed her help. She has fabulous taste in my clothes, is gentle, tactful and gives constructive, loving criticism. I could hire her out for friends. She's amazing.
She was giddy as we escaped to Washington Plaza's Nordstrom. I drove a bit... enthusiastically. I felt like an escaped rat from a tunnel filling with water. It has been a long week.
We arrived and raced inside. She and I bounded through the store and made a first spontaneous stop in lingerie. I did this because she always finds treasures that look great on me. It always costs us, but I'm able to steer her toward the sale racks. We found two treasures and headed back down to the bathing suits. I had no fear because my fashion advisor was with me.
I showed her the right size and she found five for me to try on. I liked what she chose so into the dressing room we went. She was giggling with the excitement of girls night out. She was chanting, "GNO! - G - N - O!" from Hannah Montana. I could hear giggles around us. I was having so much fun with her.
Time for the bad parts - suits. EEK. The response to the first one, "That's not really good for a mom who goes out with her children."
Second one, "That stuff back there isn't so good. (back rolls) They didn't make this one so well. Don't they know their clients have real bodies?"
Third one, "That looks great! It's so flattering and in the color you like a lot - black." This was a tankini.
Fourth one, "That's nice too, but it seems to have two sizes mixed in the same top. They didn't think THAT through too well."
I commented that I'm a bit fluffy and it's just what it is. I was accepting, not fishing. But here's the good part. Her response almost bought a tear to my eye, "Oh that's not true. You have the perfect body for a good mom that is fun. Really. They just can't seem to figure out how to make the suits better."
We stopped at that and bought the black one. I found a tasteful cover-up and we were done. We were at the counter where a few of the women who overheard our expedition were effecting their purchases. They all had the "awwwww" face on and I distinctly saw the green-eyed monster in a couple of them. THEY wish they had my amazing, loving and fun daughter.