Holiday Weekending

I am looking forward to this weekend. Memorial Day always reminds me of summer and ours will be perfect pool weather. So in honor of summer, I thought I would share a bunch of shots showing quintessential summer moments.


Warmer Days

Whenever I start to get tan lines from my bike shorts, I begin to realize summer is not far away – and soon, the kids and I will trek to the pool three times a week, to play. During summer, between training and going to the pool, I feel like I am always in the water. Swimsuits don’t last long, especially with a mixture of sun and chlorine. While you think your swimsuit may be fine, be sure you have someone check from behind. Lycra breaks down faster than you think and you could be showing more of your backside than you’d prefer.

While most of the time I wear a tankini – due to the fact I have a long torso and I like to go to the bathroom without having to strip down, bikini’s always taunt me. I would love to be secure in wearing one and I am half tempted to try this year. To me it’s not about a figure – but self-confidence. I admire women who can wear one. Not so much to show off their bodies, but more so, because they feel like it. So maybe this year will be the year of the bikini. No, not the itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny, variety. But maybe some of these dazzlers below.






Another Anthropologie up above and below.

I know, I slipped in some one-pieces and tankinis. But it was hard not too.


It started to hit me yesterday. When I was sitting in a room meeting with two people about the trip to Sendafa. I will not be home for my oldest’s birthday. I won’t even be able to speak to her.

My heart sank. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I kept them from falling.

When she was born, I didn’t get to hold her. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. But it was. She was wisked to the NICU. I was left to recover in a hospital bed with no baby.

I was living in my worst nightmare.


Obviously she is fine. She is a tall, smart, creative, beautiful girl. She is thriving. I sometimes sit and think “was I like this at 8?”

But every birthday, I spiral back to those first moments of her life. I cry. And then I go back to where she is now.


For I am thankful.