The Dreaded Day

Last night I looked out the window and saw a flash of light. It had been a long day and I had just put the kids in bed. Being tired I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.

It flashed again...and again... and I realized that I had witnessed the first fire-fly of the spring/summer season. He is out a little early but it was a sign of the warm days to come. Which means that the Dreaded Day is fast approaching.

I start to anticipate the Dreaded Day around January 1st. Through February and March it is what motivates me to keep up the work-out routines, even though it is frigid in the mornings.

But no amount of running or pilates can ever make the Dreaded Day easier...

Because nothing makes shopping for a bathing suit fun.

I don't care what size you are or how many stomach crunches you have done...if you have popped out 9 and a half pound babies or are approaching middle age, there is some loose skin and some cellulite somewhere on that body. I am no exception.

For several years now I have uttered great praises for the tankini. It's a two piece, which allows for the descrepency in size between the "top half" that's apparently fallen and taken up residence in the "bottom half", giving you the option to buy different sizes between pieces.

In the search for the perfect suit your mind tells you it must be flattering, and yet not too revealing, and you shouldn't have to sell you first born to afford it...it should be reasonably affordable so when your husband gets the credit card bill he doesn't have a heart attack (cause ladies, it doesn't matter how good it makes you look...if he looks at you and has flash backs of the day he paid that bill...the effect is lost).

The Tankini is great because you get the coverage of a one peice with a modest style of the two piece. But there is a catch.

It will cost you twice as much.

This is highly irritating and adds to the stress of the entire day.

After you have tried on 122 different bathing suits, and picked the 2nd one you put on (you wanted to buy the 1st becasue it was perfect, but at that price you could put a pool in the backyard), you are physically exhausted. Triple this exhaustion if you mistakenly brought your children with you. The stress is so great that you decided to head for the food court and find the nearest Cinnabon store...Which makes you feel guilty since your new suit only fits just right, but only as long as you don't go on a chocolate binge or are PMS'ing.

Lastly, the thing that makes this experience even tougher is that this is a task that must be done alone.

I laughed when I was talking to the hubby several years ago when he was on the way to a retreat, his sleeping bag in his hand. I asked him why he was bringing the bag if there were going to be double beds in each room. His simple answer: Kellie, men don't sleep together.

I really couldn't understand that because women do everything together...but now I do. When it comes to buying a bathing suit: Women don't shop together.

As I have shared the vast array of insecurities and hang ups in my life: from fear of spiders to dysfunctional laundry problems, I thought I would share this issue with you as well. Mostly becasue I know that I am not alone...I've heard you crying in the dressing room next to mine.

On a positive note: Exactly one month from today I will be celebrating 11 years of marriage. Last night that sweet hunk of man approached me and said he had a "thought". Let me tell you that when he approaches me with a "thought" I always give my full attention because it means it is something BIG. This is no exception. Last summer we became fast friends with a family that owned a couple of kayaks. It was a blast to go to the lake and paddle around with the kids. On Sunday we had seen a kayak for a reasonable price and (not to count my chicks before they hatch) we are thinking of purchasing that as this years gift to each other.

The really good news: IT is generally known that life jackets make you look chunky no matter how great the suit is...so if you accidently indulged too much in that Cinnabon trip or on that chocolate frenzy just throw on that life jacket and blame it on safety.