What I Wore Sunday, August 18, 2013
- Navy and Mint Maxi Dress: Soco Vintage via Groopdealz
- Mint Kitten Heels: Maurices
- Jewelry: lia sophia
At least once a day, I hear, “Mommy, you look beautiful.”
Or pretty. Or so beautiful. Occasionally gorgeous.
Always, always from LittleBrother.
Sometimes the words come as a way to butter me up. I’m not stupid; I know that he chooses to say those words before he asks me if he can do something or watch a movie or have a treat or whatever it is that he thinks I might otherwise oppose. And he’s not stupid either. He knows flattery will get you far, but mommy still says no.
But sometimes… more often than not…
I’ll walk into a room. His head will turn and his eyes will fall on my face. On my necklace. On my skirt. On my shirt. On my running clothes. On my jammies. On my yoga pants and t-shirt because life. A smile will cross his face; his smile that warms the cold parts of my heart.
“You’re the beautifulest, Mommy.”
Sometimes I haven’t brushed my teeth yet, my hair a frizzy, sweaty mess with sleep grease still lining the sheet wrinkles on my face. Sometimes I look a mess after having a busy day full of work and cooking and everything else it is that I do. Sometimes I’m sweaty, just in from a long, hot run. Sometimes I have put a lot of thought and effort into what it is that I am wearing, how I am wearing it, but I’m still having one of those moments in which I don’t feel put together or beautiful or even very much like myself.
His innocent, meaningful words wash over me, and in an instant I’m able to see myself as he sees me. His mommy, present and accounted for, ready for another new moment with him. In these moments, I am thankful for the ways that motherhood has changed how I look at myself, not just at my body, but at myself as a whole being.
I am worthy of his love — of the love of all my children, of the love of my husband. I am beautiful in their eyes, inside and out. I am thankful for this season of constant compliments. I feel I should store them up for the seasons yet to come, to remind myself that, once upon a time, I was the most beautiful woman ever to someone important: my son.
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