This much, I know:
A sunburn and a 30 week pregnant-self DO NOT go hand in hand.
No "we go together like peas and carrots," here.
No yin yang.
Just plain injustice--albeit self-inflicted and irresponsible--working its heavy hand.
I have yet to come up with a magical reprieve.
I've toyed with trapsing around my house topless,
THEN, I see my three sweet, innocent sons.
I changed my mind pretty quick.
BUT, it was tempting.
The lake nearby our home has been our hotspot. I can't find any more economical fun ($5 day pass) and the kids could live along its sandy shores building canals and waterways that put Panama, and dare I say, Venice, even, to shame.
Thus was the sight of my tragic sun-exposed misfortune. I am paying for it. I'm a firm believer that tan fat is much cuter than white fat. I'm not being harsh or overly critical of myself, either. I have a positive self-image (Usually. I'm a woman, remember?). It is what it is. Truth. Vain truth, but truth, nonetheless. My plan went awry. Somehow, I seem to repeat this lesson once every summer. Live and learn...and learn...and learn again.
I still hold firm in my opinion that a "healthy," unburned glow makes a great confidence booster, especially when the rest of your body is morphing into a blossoming soon-to-be-new-Mommy (accompnied by some not-so-glamorous side effects). Call me crazy. Or, just plain honest. Either way, you'd be right.
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