Dinner is in the oven, husband is in town running errands and tonight is WATER AEROBICS!

I will be sure to share the adventure.  Tonight I am taking my oldest along to try it out. Just what every 40 somehting, slightly over weight woman wants, A perfectly perky 18yo reflection of the past.  Not a hint of fat to be found and energy without limit.

In preperation for tonight I went and purchased new swim suit bottoms.  Yes, bottoms, yes two.  I discovered at my last class that the man trunks I had been wearing for modesty sake...  Because they cover more... Was floating up so much that my entire behind was playing peek-a-boo.  My dear friends are so polite that they all claim to not have noticed.  Anyway, as I was in the middle of one exercise which requires the hine parts to fact north I realized that the breeze was unabated. 

I found that I was about a week late for the swim suit clearance sales.  All the racks were as bare as my wet behind.  I dug through the remains and found at the third store (Target) a few parts left.  Parts meaning:  The shiney metallic camoflage bikini top is not my thing.  Seems that miss matched was all that was left.  So I got creative...  I found some black bikini bottoms that I figured I could wear under my peek-a-boo bottoms.  When did XL get so small?!  I also found a black skirted bottom.  Black is, afterall, so slimming, right?  The skirted bottom could have only made me happy if it was atleast knee length and weighted to not float.  Since I was carrying the super large, loud, 30 pound 8 month old, I did not try them on before buying them.

I got home and had a locked door fashion show.  Me, The Mirror and My Self-esteem.   My self esteem made a fast exit.  I was left alone with the mirror.  Was it the lighting or is my eye sight getting really bad? Maybe the tightness of the suit made my eye wrinkle up just like the skin it was compressing?  I was squinting to try and understand what I was looking at.  A fine look!  Squinting aging mother of eight trying to figure out how a mirror can distort an image in such a way.  I've never seen so little fabric do so much to emotionally scar in such a short amount of time. 

So tonight I am left with the tight black bikini bottoms underneath the boy trunks or the skirt bottom that allows my belly button to make it's first public appearance outside of labor and delivery since the early 90s.    I'm so grateful for the covering of the water.  That is until... bottoms up!