I recently read a survey that listed Making a Presentation as the number one fear of adults. They’re wrong. I don’t know what men’s biggest fears are but I can certainly tell you the number one fear for women. It’s not spiders, it’s not mice, it’s not even that slimy clump of hair and goo that you have to pull out of the bathtub drain when the water won’t go down. The biggest fear is trying on bathing suits. (Admit it – just thinking about it is probably making you nervous.)
My husband doesn’t understand the trauma that women feel when we consider going to buy a new suit. He can’t understand the difference between buying shoes and buying a bathing suit. It’s easy for him, when summer starts, he just pulls out last year’s bathing suit, tries it on and if it doesn’t fit any more, he goes out and buys a new one. He looks at a few and fifteen minutes later he has a new bathing suit.
In fifteen minutes, I haven’t even decided what size I’m looking for. (I’m sure that the sizes get smaller every year – that’s the only explanation I can think of when the size that I wore last time I bought a bathing suit doesn’t fit anymore.) I’d prefer going shoe shopping any day – after all, I don’t have to worry that my feet look fat.
The worst part about buying bathing suits is trying them on. I have to get undressed in front of a fun-house mirror with a 200-watt light bulb exposing every cookie and cupcake I ate over the winter (including the ones that I only licked the icing off to save calories). Just thinking about it gives me the shivers that only a chocolate bar can soothe.
Over the years, I’ve developed some rules for bathing suit shopping:
1) Put it off as long as possible.
2) Don’t go shopping right after you eat – that tiny bite of cake you have for dessert can make the difference between a size 10 and a size 14.
3) Don’t go shopping right before you eat. It will ruin your appetite.
4) Don’t go shopping if you have anything else you can possibly do instead such as scrubbing out the inside of the chimney or painting the roof.
5) Never, never, never go shopping with a small child who is likely to loudly say things in the dressing room like, “Mommy why is your skin squishing out of the side of the bathing suit? Is it supposed to look like that?”
Even though I dislike it, I eventually have to give in and buy a bathing suit otherwise I’ll never get into the water this year to cool off. Once I get over the shock of buying a bathing suit I’ve got to deal with my second biggest fear – wearing shorts in public.
Remember - keep laughing!
Every year my family asks what I want for Mother’s Day. I never tell them what I really want because I know I’ll never get them. For example, what I really wanted for Mother’s Day was an elegant dinner at a restaurant where I have to get dressed up and put on perfume. I’d like it to be so fancy that there is no kid’s menu.
What I actually asked for was a dinner out. What I got was a dinner at the local pancake restaurant. It’s my daughter’s favorite place and she is convinced that it’s my favorite too. It’s not actually number one on my list, however it has cheap kid’s meals, fast service, paper placemats to color and it’s close enough to the house so that I only have to hear, “Are we there yet?” once or twice. What more can you ask for in a dining experience?
The other thing I really wanted for Mother’s Day was a weekend at a luxurious spa complete with a manicure, pedicure, facial, and daily massages. Oooh, that sounds so nice, I’m getting relaxed just thinking about it. Instead I actually asked for some fancy bath soap and a chance for a nice soothing hot soak. What I got was about ten minutes of quiet in the bathtub before I got interrupted over and over again. “Mom, where are my socks?” “Mom, where are the scissors?” “Mom, where are the band aids?” That one got me out of the bath in a hurry.
Don’t get me wrong; I love all the presents that my family gives me. I especially love the presents that my seven year old daughter makes for me: the I Love You Mom pencil holder, the picture frame studded with colored macaroni, the bead necklaces. (I remember making ashtrays for my mom when I was little, but I guess that’s not politically correct anymore.)
My favorite present, though, is one that my daughter can’t make and can’t buy at a store. My favorite present of all is when my daughter gives me a giant-squeezy hug and I hear her say, “You’re the best, Mom.”
So when my daughter asked me what I wanted most of all for Mother’s Day, that’s what I told her. Actually there’s something that I want more than that, but I know I can’t get it. I want it more than any fancy dinner or weekend away at a spa. What I really want is a way to put some extra giant-squeezy hugs in a box and save them for when my daughter is fifteen and thinks I’m a complete idiot. When she runs into her room to be alone, I’ll be able to open my little box of hugs, take one out and remember one of the best things about being a mom. ;-)
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As a special incentive, one random submitter will get a personally autographed copy of my book, “Annie Clark and The Pearls of Wisdom” (with your name or your child’s name). Thank you.