Self Esteem

34 week bump

Sunday was  one of those days that I believe come along to keep your ego in check. I’m telling myself that because otherwise I may cry.  Father’s Day dawned sunny and warm,  we decided we  needed to do something different, fun, and close to home. Being 8 1/2 months pregnant and with baby giving every indication that she may want to make an early entrance into this wonderful world, the Dr has advised I stay close and limit my activity. So with those restrictions in mind and the weather being hot and beautiful we decided to borrow Craig’s’ bosses  pontoon boat. This is actually his “spare” boat.  Being mere weeks away from delivery I can’t for the life of me justify the purchase of a maternity swimsuit. Well that and my a fore mentioned dislike loathing of shopping. With swimsuit shopping I believe, is  its own particular brand of hell. So I was left with what I had on hand, that would actually fit.  A bikini-type top and swim shorts that when rolled down under my bump fit well enough to keep me from violating any laws. All covered by one of Craig’s  long tank tops. Good enough I felt for a private family outing.  My 12 yo daughter who sees nothing but absolute beauty in the pregnant form was insistent that the tank was unnecessary.  At this point I think I should mention that she has yet to witness the true “beauty” of  pregnancy  in a state of undress. All this was about to change, an end to innocence as they say. As I am hiking up my shorts but before I have managed to get my tank on in walks miss “pregnancy is beautiful” she takes one look at my rather large belly and calmly states that perhaps she was wrong I probably should wear the tank too. (Strike 1)

The swim top

All discreetly covered up by this

On we move to the actual boat ride which is relaxing, lovely and private.  But also getting hot. We decide to go for a swim, or in my case a float. The swim ladder is installed and down I climb. I hit the second step when crack the part that holds it out from the boat disintegrates. Craig assures me that it’s just old and certainly not the fact that a hugely pregnant women roughly half the size of a beached orca just put her full weight on it. Now on to the larger problem at hand. How to get back in the boat. While the ladder is still operational, the fact that a pontoon boat sits higher out of the water than a regular boat never occurred to me. There is no way to get my legs up high enough and past my belly to reach the rungs, and since this particular boat is not equipped with a wench the only option left is to swim to shore. (strike 2)

If all that wasn’t enough to make me run screaming to the nearest cave here’s the topper of the day. We finish my now exhausting ride and need to head into town to pick up my 16 yo who decided to take a summer class for extra credit. ( My head is still trying to get wrapped around that one). There is no way in two hell’s I’m going into town dressed like this. I brought a regular t-shirt and shorts so all I need to do is switch out the tank for my fully covering shirt. Now keep in mind we are parked on private property, bordered on 3  sides by trees, and the other side is the lake. Craig’s truck is one of those huge things with a door and a half . It’s parked right next to his sisters Cherokee with the super tinted windows. I’ll just open up the doors and wallah perfect changing area. I double-check to be extra sure I am fully protected from onlookers  and proceed to whip off my wet tank. All the while a vaguely familiar whine that I can’t quite place is slowly invading my senses. Just as my shirt comes off  I realize frantically what that noise is, from about 15 feet over the tree tops zooms my neighbors single engine Cessna. Now this is a sweet elderly gentleman whom I’m sure never imagined his day ending up with  image of his half-naked very pregnant neighbor seared in his brain for all eternity. The best he can hope for now may be a little dementia. (Strike 3)