Swimmers

I wrote some months ago about the search for a swim top (a search which began in December, during which the best swim top I found was a shoulderless hot pink bikini number that made me look uncannily like a footballer in drag). I recently found a swim top in Vinnies that appeared to fit me – but the instant I got in the water the straps fell from their hooks and the material increased in size by a factor of three. That was. . . not really the look I was going for.

Finally, aware that most of the big bargain shops are no longer stocking swimmers at all, I visited a shop attached to the Belconnen pool. Not only do I finally have a swimsuit that can fit all of me inside, but the high waist and decorative outer skirt actually look nice. So nice that, despite still being five kilos over my greatest pre-pregnancy weight, I am here posting a pic of myself in swimmers on the interwebs.

In completely unrelated news, I read a vividly angry response on someone’s blog to the question, “My wife keeps calling me at work and interrupting me to tell me really boring things about her day at home with the baby. What should I do?”

I added my two cents in the comments, and thought I’d repeat it here:

For the record, I’m married to a guy that is actually interested in his own child. How shocking. And you know what? He deserves exactly zero points for that.

Right now he’s putting her to bed and she’s crying. He just gave her a bath, cut her fingernails, and read her a book – all after a full day at a stressful job. Still zero points. Just base-level fatherhood: joy and fear and pain and love. There’s everything and nothing special about that. And he loves getting SMSes from me along the lines of: “She ALMOST turned over!” “She just wet the very hem of my ankle-length skirt with a single head-height burst of vomit. Bring chocolate.” and “She just laughed at the cat.” Because she’s ours, and everything she does is interesting – in sharp contrast to the entirely pedestrian antics of all other babies.

This is what NORMAL fatherhood looks like.

4 thoughts on “Swimmers

  1. It does look good!

    I can’t help but wonder if they guy in question (in the latter part of the post) has notice that his wife is probably craving contact with people who aren’t more interested in chewing on toys, and that of all the people she could call, she chooses him to interact with. It’s kind of flattering, even if he perceives it as annoying.

    • W: It says plenty about the baby-raising experience that that poor women still chooses to call him, despite the fact he’s obviously completely useless and proud of it.

    • Anonymous and W: Thank you 🙂 It’s not often that lycra actually hides one’s sins instead of exposing them.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s