It's Possible To Have Fun When You Have A 'Mum Tum'

I am an English rose. I like to think that I am pale and interesting like Nicole Kidman. But by English rose I mean I burn within three seconds of being in the sun. Or I get heat rash. Or sunstroke. Or a truly beautiful, vomit inducing combination of all three. I have talked a bit before about body confidence and how I'm not totally in love with the way I look. And I find that during holiday times it can become even more of an issue. Sure you're OK when you are at a gloomy British seaside resort where you can still hide in jeggings and a fancy smock top but when you are abroad? And the colour of a lobster? It can make you feel even more of a mumsy frump.

I am currently in beautiful Lanzarote. In a gorgeous hotel with a whole host of stunning European women. Athletic German Mums, stylish Spanish Mums and for the first few days I found it a bit overwhelming. Don't get me wrong. This isn't a "woe is me I am chubby due to a myriad of different reasons". This is a "woe is me why can't I just get my sh*t together and try and lose a bit of weight so I don't have to cover myself up in a Primark aztec beach dress at all times".

So I've avoided the pool. I've sat by the pool. I've lounged around in five different beach dresses. I've sweated my tits off in BHS all in one swimming cossies. Watching my two frolic about in the pool with their Dad. Cross with myself. Cursing my gene pool which means that the only tan I get is the bronzer I cover my face in and trying to hide the ruddy red rash gleaming from my chest. But today? I had a change of heart. I was all set to have another day around the pool, dozing in the shade and it dawned on me that my daughter didn't ask if I would go in the pool today.

She didn't bother splashing me when I walked past her in the shallow end. And she didn't try and aim her water pistol at me. And I thought "F*ck. I'm the 'mum who won't go in the pool'". The one she will moan about when she is older and tell her kids "Oh my Mum would never go in the water". And that bothered me a million more times that what people thought of my red raw chest, my bottle white knees and my wobbly ass. So? I got in the pool.

I didn't dive in. I didn't run around and scream whilst bombing it down the slides. But I got in. And we had a glorious 45 minutes playing. She was so happy I was there she went down the slide ten times in a row so I could cheer when she was at the bottom. She played catch with me. She laughed with me and? She splashed me. As I had become the Mum that did go in the pool. And whilst I knew I didn't look like J-Lo and my ass has more dimples in it that is necessary. Not one person vomited when I got in. Not one man covered his and eyes and screamed "GOOD GOD LOOK AT HER!". As no-one really cares about the way I look bar me. So whilst I try and work out how to get to grips with my body, I am going to go in the pool a bit more. Hell I may even brave the slide tomorrow.
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