There are many things we do in our life that we are not particularly proud of. For me, one of those things happened on Tuesday morning. I was sitting in my bathroom with Baby watching me from her bouncy chair. I had a serious problem: we were taking Baby to her first swimming lesson in less than an hour. And I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t waxed my bikini line since before I gave birth.
My mission was to remove the offending hair, pack Baby’s gear, and then get us to the pool, all in the next 40 minutes. Baby was on the verge of a crying fit, so I started singing to her. Christmas songs, if you must know, because they seem to be the only type of song I know all the words to. I’m so glad that Baby will have no memory of the day mummy sang “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” while tending her entire bikini line with waxing strips meant for her upper lip.
If you’re having trouble picturing it, it’s the equivalent of trying to dig a crater with a teaspoon. Or chopping down a redwood tree with a plastic knife. Or like raising the debt ceiling by $1.2 trillion when you already owe $14.5 trillion. But I digress.
I don’t like donning a swimsuit at the best of times. With nothing in my closet for my new, improved curvaceous shape, I had to borrow a suit from our collection of pin-up props in the Studio because a vintage suit would be less unflattering on my generous birthing hips.
The only, and I mean ONLY, thing that would coax me into a swimsuit at this point is the prospect of seeing Baby splashing about in her Happy Nappy. Ah, the sacrifices of a mother.
So if there is a lesson to be learned here, it is this: sometime before you even give birth, buy some bikini waxing strips and a vintage-style swim suit and hide them away in a safe place because, rest assured, this day will come for you, too.