So we’re going to Mexico.
My dude, my baby and me. We leave in less than three weeks, and we’ll be gone for 7 days.
Many people will read this and say, “Oh, I’m so jealous!” and “You’re so lucky!” and “I wish I was going!”
But someone out there, somewhere out there, will understand when I say, I have some apprehension.
Let’s just say it people: When you’ve had a baby, and you haven’t had time to eat a proper meal or get a decent night’s sleep let alone get a workout routine going and at the same time you’ve eaten a years worth of Coffee Crisps in the last week because it was raining on Halloween so you have a lot of candy leftover, the last thing you want to think about is putting on a bathing suit.
But I will. I will put on a bathing suit, and a pair of flip flops, and a big floppy hat, and I will get my I-just-had-a-baby-five-months-ago ass to Mexico, because the only way I’m going to teach my kid to be comfortable in her skin is to be comfortable in my own. The only way I’m going to teach her to own it is if I own it. She’s still a little young, but that just means I have more time to learn the lessons myself before I really have to give them.
And so off we go. To Mexico.
And really – this isn’t going to be so bad…