Sometime last week I stumbled across this article: Moms, Put on That Swimsuit by Jessica N. Turner. Please read it. I honestly want to just copy and paste the entirety of the thing right here, but instead I'll trust that you'll read it and just put out here the two lines that hit me hard... "Your swimsuit does not define you." "I want them to remember that their mom was there, with them." As much as I hate, hate, hate to say it, I am That Mom. The Mom who doesn't want to put on the dreaded swimsuit simply because my own insecurities start screaming wild and loud the minute I go to open the drawer where the dreaded swimsuit lives. I am That Mom. The Mom who fears what thoughts might be harbored in a strangers head about my weight or size. I am That Mom. The one who, way more often than not, lets Daddy be the one who swims with the kids. I'll cheer them on, sure! And stare at them a million times when they yell "Watch
Because I don't want to miss this gift...