My boys officially smell of summer. And to me summer smells like sunscreen.

The ritual has begun – the spraying and lathering and rubbing into scalps of sweet smelling SPF 50  on blond hair and pale white bodies. {Sorry, boys, you may have got my blue eyes, but you also got my British genes.}

They love it. They stand – arms akimbo – and rotate slowly as I mist them. Teeny tiny waists astride gulping swimsuits that all but swallow their cute little patoots; hide their calves and brush just short of their ankles.

I could literally eat them up.

We wade into the water together.

Their tiny selves next to my not-so-tiny-self. And it makes me proud.

Because this body of mine that can’t ever seem to find a flattering suit, this body birthed those two boys. This body has seen life that the adorable taut, toned and tiny lifeguard girls on duty couldn’t possibly dream of yet.

This body has housed 3 miracles and it turns out that miracles need room to grow.

This beautiful amazing body has stretched to accommodate three sets of feet, three heads, three hearts, three sets of flexing limbs. This body is round where some say it should be flat; soft where some say it should be hard; and full where many others are running on empty.

This body knows what it is.

And it is much, much more than a swim suit.

{Revisiting this post from last year, after our first trip to the pool today and my third baby; I needed the reminder!}

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