Then came the process of growing up. The tug-of-war between the media sending daggers into a young girl's self-concept and the opposite encouragement to be good with who you are. During this time, a great deal of effort went into being someone who looks in the mirror and accepts you for you.
Then you have kids. You get a new body. You have tiny humans hanging off of your every limb and using your body for sustenance. Your body is not your own. You, despite best efforts, take on that wild haven't slept, I don't know what that stain is, sometimes surly look of motherhood. And you wonder, what do I look like to my child and husband?
At first the little babes see your smile, and they smile back. They love you for your milk and the comfort of your arms. Then they start walking and run circles around your legs, and hug your knee caps.
Then, they start talking and lovingly expostulate every thought and observation. It is a kind of poetry only toddlers and preschoolers can really create. You get to see the world through their eyes. And scarier... hear their observations of you.
"Wow Mom your feet are as big as a Step Sister's!"
Too many comments ending in "Your big giant bottom"
"Are those red things chicken pox?!" (No, just a bunch of zits.)
"You look like the beast." (I was getting dressed to go out and actually fixed my hair, was wearing makeup, ear rings and a nice scarf)
A smart mom knows that these little tidbits of truth should make you laugh, not cry. (I know hormones can produce irrational results, but please Mammas, this is a great time to learn to laugh... even if it is at how your child views you.) Although, laughing until you cry may just happen.
Then you savor all those sweet remarks all the more. Like, "Mommy you so pretty." This is twice as sweet when it is the echo of your husband. Who even after all those babies and even with all that really scary, curly hair...still sees you as beautiful. Then it is your job, Mamma, to believe him.
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