I’ve made my peace with the extra pounds that come with enjoying a slice of cake, so the sight of slim moms with their thigh gaps lounging by the pool isn’t shaking my self-esteem—at least that’s what I tell myself. Usually, the pool is our private oasis, but today it seems like a convention for the fit and fabulous. I promise, I’m not feeling self-conscious about my own body as I notice their toned thighs and impossibly perky chests, all held in place by strapless bikinis. Seriously, how do they manage it?
I can’t help but wonder if their kids ever yank those tops down. If I wore something like that, my kids would definitely turn it into a game of tug-of-war! But hey, I’m not here to dissect their fashion choices; I’m just embracing my tankini, which is clearly a much safer option for a mom like me.
One of the fit mamas, let’s call her Lisa, squats at the pool’s edge, sunblock smeared on her fingertips, beckoning her little boy, “Come here, Jake! Come on, sweetheart. One…two… Don’t make me count to three, Jake!” I almost roll my eyes at the scene, but I can’t look away. How is she managing to balance on her toes and apply sunscreen without face-planting into the pool?
Despite my admiration for her multitasking, I’m far more focused on my daughter, Emma, who’s recently mastered somersaults underwater. I grab my phone to record her accomplishment and share it with her dad. “Great job, Emma!” I cheer. “Now, just hang out here with the other kids while I put my phone away.”
But as I turn to stow my phone safely, I see Emma drifting a little too close to the edge, treading water. I’m not worried—she’s an excellent swimmer and I’m only a few feet away. But then she calls out, “Help!” which I’ve told her to say if she’s ever in trouble.
Panic sets in. I quickly assess the situation: kids are in the way, and jumping in might land me on top of one of them. So, I opt for the stairs. I mean, when your kid says “help,” you don’t dawdle!
As I hurry down the steps, my foot slips like a character in a slapstick comedy. Time slows as I flail, my tankini top riding up, and my bottoms wedging uncomfortably. This is the exact reason I avoid strapless styles!
I hit the water with a splash, my legs somehow sticking up like a circus act. I can’t help but think how embarrassing this moment is and wonder if the fit mamas can see my unkempt legs. I finally come up for air, grabbing Emma and discreetly adjusting my suit.
Sitting on the steps with my daughter in my lap, I scan the area, half-expecting to see a child wailing from my clumsy dive. But, surprisingly, no one seems upset. Instead, the pool area is eerily silent, all eyes on me. The fit moms are either staring in shock or pretending to be engrossed in their children’s antics.
Finally, one of the women—a mom who actually has a strap on her top—asks, “Are you… okay?”
“Um, I think I might be bleeding, but I’m fine?” I reply, trying to maintain my dignity as I pull my tankini down and adjust my wedgie. For the next thirty minutes, I focus on appearing totally unbothered by the most embarrassing moment of my life.
In the end, there’s no grand lesson to take away from this experience. I fell into the pool, and it was mortifying. I’ll probably remember this moment when I’m 95 years old, and my daughter will ask me for wisdom on my deathbed. I’ll likely just say, “Only shout for help if you really need it, kid.”
Summary
Falling into the pool in front of a group of fit moms wasn’t my proudest moment, but it taught me the importance of being comfortable in my own skin. Embrace who you are, and remember that sometimes, life just happens. Check out more about personal experiences and motherhood at this blog or learn about at-home insemination options with this trusted retailer. If you’re looking for additional resources regarding pregnancy and home insemination, visit Kindbody’s blog.
Leave a Reply