Bikini Season

I wore my preggo bikini last night. In public. Kirk started swim lessons, which my brother's wife had gotten him as a birthday present. But in the madness of out-of-town visitors and party planning, I never got to the store to buy myself a new swimsuit. So I figured I'd see if my 8-months-pregnant bikini fit and it did. And, to my everlasting shock, I didn't look that horrible in it. I had also retrieved the top to a maternity tankini from my 'ternity bin in the basement. That looked horrible with my bikini bottoms. So I just figured what the fuck. I honestly don't care. Sure, I don't have a flat stomach and my thighs are bumpy. Whatever. I'm married, I have a young baby, my husband thinks I'm sexy, I look good in most clothes. And after seeing all the Mom Suits in class last night? I'm even happier that my laziness prevented me from buying one myself. Oh, I bet I'll end up getting a one-piece later this summer anyway. But it sure as heck isn't going to be cut like that. I'd rather have my little muffin top exposed than wear something that unflattering.