The Fifth Season – Pauline M. Campos

If web surfing burned calories

When I was a kid there were four seasons: Winter, spring, summer, and fall. Of course, Pluto was also still a planet which goes to show you how the times have changed. Want even more proof? Read the magazine covers while waiting in line at the grocery checkout or take a look at your tweet stream. Because we only watch Nick Jr. and PBS Kids in this house, I wouldn’t know what’s playing on prime time television, but I’ll bet you the muffin top I’ve been sporting since I the day Buttercup was born that there are plenty of commercials airing right now touting weight loss plans and pills with more than obvious references to the season that came to be sometime between I and Don’t Fucking Care.

Say it with me, now, ladies: Swimsuit season.

How many of you are more preoccupied with packing lunches and coordinating after school activities and yelling at the kids not to shave the damned dog again than following the media frenzy set on reminding us that plastic surgery would be so much easier than another damned diet? The headlines alone are enough to drive any one of us into the welcoming arms of the nearest source of chocolate and alcohol in an effort to comfort ourselves for not living up to This Magazine’s goals for us not losing that 15 Pounds in Three Weeks plan they promised us was going to convince fellow public-pool goers that we are actually our childrens’ nannies. It worked for Generic Female Celebrity so it should totally have worked for us, right? And don’t forget to pass me the Guilt-Flavored Ben & Jerry’s. No, not the one you already ate half of. I’m still not dealing very well with the fact that I am totally not Ready to Put on That Bikini.

Maybe I’ll try something drastic instead. I mean, following those 25 Tips to Get Swimsuit Ready didn’t work. Time to pull out the big guns.

Ready? Okay, I figure if I start by putting the bathing suit on…


Pauline M. Campos Pauline M. Campos is wife to The Husband, mother to “Buttercup,” and has decided that it’s time to make peace with her cellulite.

She got started in newspapers and served as city editor for a few local papers before hitting the big time at The Detroit News and freelancing for the Metro-Detroit based Metro Parent Magazine before taking a break after baby. She’s a featured blogger at and contributes to the hilarious Oh right, and her own blog? That’s You’re welcome.

She’s also pretty sure God made her lactose intolerant because she refused to stop chewing her ice cream.


  1. I’m so glad I’m not required to wear bathing suits.

    I go nekkid.


  2. Fifteen? More like fifty pounds to go for me. Although house odds would be on me if I met one of those weight loss commercial girls in a dark alley. ;) My new mantra: swimsuits with skirts.

  3. Ugh. The Fifth Season. I wear a cute sundress coverup until I’m practically in the water already, then put it right back on as soon as I’m out! No kids, I’m sorry but I’m not going to actually PLAY with you in the water, since I have to stay submerged.

    • But don’t you SEE? You already beat the system! While everyone else is still trying to figure out how to get their fucking suits *on*, you’re already in the pool up to your neck making sure the kids understand you mean business when you say for them to, you know, entertain themselves. You are SO ready for swimsuit season.

  4. Ah swimsuit season I remember it well. I gave it up for Lent about 20 years ago, decided it was a pretty good idea to keep as part of my everyday life and so I don’t fret about it any longer.



  5. The last time I purchased a bathing suit was in 1997 in the Lakewood, CO Mervyn’s during summer break between my junior and senior year of college. It was an adorable two piece, navy and white. And I rocked it even though I was a good thirty pounds over what my weight was “supposed” to be. Whatever. I looked good.

    And, because I’ve been on a campaign of celebrating the form of real women, I think I’ll buy another bikini this year and wave my giant ass in the face of all of “them” who say I shouldn’t be wearing it. Or at least I will be in my mind because I’m half Swedish and there’s no way I’m going outside in the sun in Arizona because I value my fair-to-translucent skin.

    But seriously, if I had a pool to swim in, I would have a hard time making myself go out in a bathing suit and act like I’m not terrified of what other women are saying about my fat thighs, cellulite and other flaws. The very same ones that drive my fiance crazy, so why in the world would I care what anyone else thinks except that I’ve been conditioned to.

    Awesome post and I think if we all collectively decide to wear whatever swimwear we want to the pool, we’ll find strength in solidarity because real women by far outnumber super models and skinny girls are just as scared that they don’t have curves as we are of those same curves.

    Sorry to hijack your comments, P. I’ll try to comment BEFORE taking the Ambien next time.

  6. I love your sens of humor!

    If you read the magazine covers you’re never ready for swimsuit season, because non of us look like said Generic Female Celebrity. Nor do we have the money to pay for their home delivered diet meals, personal trainers and the copious amounts of plastic surgery they’ve had and will be having for years to come.

    Instead of following the “lose 15 pounds in 3 weeks”diet I will stick to my healthy eating plan and workouts as much as I can and will enjoy life this summer.

  7. I’ve completely hit the point of Don’t Give a Fuck. Honestly? People are lucky if I shave my legs before I go swimming.


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