itsy bitsy teeny weeny

while neither yellow nor polka-dotted, we still got maddy a little thing of a bikini today at old navy. it was the only one i liked. the bottoms were boy short-ish. the top was just a couple triangles and some string. the girl's not even two. i questioned where my head was when vern looked over and said it was perfect. then i questioned how either of us could pass as responsible parents.

i had a two-piece when i was a toddler. it was more like a short tankini that mom sewed herself. read: toddler-appropriate. my midriff was covered from then until the 9th grade when i fell in love at penney's. in. love. the bottoms were blue high-cut with a white gathered waist band. the top was a green bandeau with a strap that could be removed and become an all out strapless bikini. that was not what alarmed my aunt when i overheard her with mom.

my new bathing suit was not held together by stitch and optional strap alone: at each hip and centered on my bust were hook and eye clasps. three per set. at any given moment i was just three clasps away from girls gone wild or mooning folks. that seemed a little extreme to everyone except my mother who i then overheard reply "it's jen. and i want her to feel like a girl, too".

i did feel pretty girlie in it. under the t-shirt i wore because i was all too aware that my bust could not keep the clasps taught enough to stay permanently affixed. never mind when trying to dunk my kid brother. i had a one-piece that i wore outside of family outings. in fact, i was so uncomfortable with my knees that i actually wore my one-piece speedo with jeans jet-skiing in high school to cover them. jeans. as if no one would find that odd. a double below-knee amputee teen girl out in the middle of a lake in full-length levi's. jet-skiing. plus i never considered how much heavier that would make me seem when my crush then lifted me back onto the boat. if that sheds some light to all that was laden in what mom meant by "it's jen".

i think about that when mothers, myself included, judge other mothers. when i consider how far i'll step out of approved bounds for my kids, fully aware i do not have my mother's backbone. whenever i go swimsuit shopping for maddy, equally mindful i did not inherit her seamstress skill either.

we returned the suit for its lack of strap adjustments. vern thought it was cute. i thought it looked funny. her pot belly sticking out under her non-existent chest. i say non-existent; caleb exclaimed in utter-surprise, "maddy! you have nurse things!"