My children and I might as well be vampires. We don’t sparkle in the sun; instead, we embody the ghostly glow of cave dwellers who’ve long avoided sunlight.
My heritage hails from Eastern Europe, specifically the Tatra Mountains region. My partner, Jake, carries roots from England and Scotland. Together, we are a quintessentially pale family. Back in college, we even held a contest to determine who was the most fair-skinned. It came down to me and my Irish boyfriend, whose skin was speckled with freckles. I emerged victorious by unanimous decision. Jake often boasts odd tan lines, like those from his shirt cuffs and sunglasses, which only enhances our family’s ghostly aesthetic.
Naturally, my children had no chance of escaping this fate. They arrived into this world as bright red, screaming bundles, resembling bologna, and maintained that hue during their newborn days. It wasn’t until about six months in, coinciding with the onset of summer, that they began to lighten up. With this transition, I found myself in a mild state of panic—by “panic,” I mean I went on a shopping spree. Back then, only Boden offered rash guards and matching pants, so Mini Boden became our go-to brand. My kids were more covered at the beach than at church.
As they grew, I amassed a collection of Mini Boden swimwear, which got passed down from boy to boy. My youngest two are still sporting those outfits. Nowadays, I’ve eased up a bit. My oldest, who sits on his knees when kayaking, sometimes wears regular swim shorts but always pairs them with a long-sleeved rash guard—yes, even in South Carolina during the peak of summer. For us, swimming means layering on more clothing rather than shedding it.
All of my little bologna loaves were born with barely any hair, taking at least a year to sprout a decent mop. This meant I was either slathering sunscreen on their bare heads or making them wear hats. I feared the thought of missing an ear! Since none of them went swimming during their early years, they mostly sat on the shore playing in the sand, and I found straw fedoras from Target to shield them from the sun instead of typical baby bucket hats, which were too hot.
Once I saw how adorable they looked in these hats, there was no way I’d let them take them off—not with the risk of sunburn. I implemented a rule: hats were mandatory or they had to stay inside. Soon, we amassed a vast collection of hats ranging from gray to blue dinosaur designs. Baseball caps didn’t count since they didn’t shield the back of their necks. Over time, they accepted the hats as a necessary nuisance, despite my oldest’s constant complaints about itchiness. People often remark how cute my 3-year-old looks in his fedora. “It’s so adorable!” they exclaim. He knows it’s a requirement, or he faces a trip back indoors.
But the hat rule is just the beginning. I still have to slather them with sunscreen, covering their hands, legs, and most importantly, their feet. I can’t bear the thought of them ending up with painful sandal tan lines! This means we lather up their feet, backs, and sides, and I make sure they’re wearing proper shoes. I’m that mom who buys water shoes from Target rather than relying on last year’s sandals. If they insist on going barefoot, they better stay out of the sun.
We apply sunscreen 20 minutes before heading outdoors. I know most people don’t follow this routine, which makes me feel like the most overprotective mom in existence. But I don’t care. We opt for fragrance-free, paraben-free options marketed for babies, even though they cost a small fortune. If I’m applying sunscreen multiple times a day, I prefer a more natural product. We stick to SPF 60+ because it helps ease my anxious mind, even if the difference beyond SPF 50 is negligible.
After the kids are taken care of, it’s my turn. I use facial moisturizers and makeup to protect my face, but I also wear a long-sleeved cover-up and a rash guard for my swimsuit. I make sure to apply sunscreen to my bikini line and between my toes—because who wants burnt feet from sandal thongs? Last summer, I only had one tan line, and this year I’m determined to keep my skin perfectly pale.
I wish I could tan. I admire the look, even if it highlights my stretch marks. However, my father has had more melanoma removed than I’d like to count, and my husband’s family carries the same unfortunate history. They both spent too much time in the sun without protection, and now it’s a genetic concern for my kids. I won’t let them suffer from sunburns due to my negligence, so I’m unapologetically diligent about sun protection. They’ve never been burnt, and as long as I keep praying for shade, I intend to keep it that way.
For more insights on staying safe and informed during pregnancy, check out this excellent resource on IVF and related topics. If you’re interested in home insemination options, feel free to explore this informative article as well.
In summary, my family embraces our vampire-like pallor with pride, committed to sun protection and maintaining our unique style. With a blend of humor and dedication, we navigate the sunny days, ensuring our little ones are safe while still looking adorable.