When I first met
Nic he would laugh often about how I classified certain things as "rude". For instance...if a cloud covered the sun while I was trying to get a tan that cloud would obviously be "rude". If I stubbed my toe on the door jam, the door jam was "rude". Etc...
Well, now something else is attacking me in a very rude way. This whole pregnancy-postpartum thing. Sigh.
As far as I know, my abdomen was the only body part that was actually pregnant. Why then, do you suppose I cannot get my jeans past my knees? My thighs weren't pregnant were they? RUDE!
How is it possible that after giving birth to a nearly nine pound baby I hop on the scale two days later and find I have lost a whopping seven pounds? RUDE!
And let's not forget the ultimate firing squad of brutal honesty...my children. I have had to give up my personal shower time and have traded it for piling me, Afton, and Evan in at once or else a shower just doesn't happen. During this morning's shower Afton asked me 1.) "Why is your belly button so big like a mole hole?" She then followed with my personal favorite 2.) "Why are your boobs so long now?" Sigh.
Now that I sleep solely on my left side to protect Jemma from Nic rolling on her I have developed this amazing zit on my left cheek. It's pretty much the biggest zit I've ever heard of in real life or in legend...I have affectionately named it Molgarath. (Watch the Spiderwick Chronicles for clarification). Here's a picture of Molgarath.
Even Nic got in on the action when one morning my naturally curly hair was particularly unruly and he told me I looked like Gene Wilder. For those of you who can't remember who that is...he played Willy Wonka on the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
I can't deny...he pretty much hit the nail on the head.
So, lately it can be pretty hard to look at myself. But you know what? When I get a little discouraged at what has happened to my body after three kids, this is what I do. I go pick up Jemma and I walk to a mirror and take a good look. I am a mother. I see myself holding her and know there is more to me than what I look like, what longitude my body parts are at, or if a mole would in fact enjoy burrowing in for the winter in my larger than normal belly button. I am a mother! It's pretty amazing. Jemma is pretty amazing. She's beautiful. And every night (several times a night) when she wakes up to be fed and it feels like someone Elmer's glued my eye lids shut and I can barely wake up, I can't help but take one look at her and a smile spreads across my lips because I still can't believe she is mine! I'm happy to see her every time. So I guess I just want to say...Yeah, it's important to look my best and take care of myself, but I'm trying not to dwell on the things out of my control. You know? It's not my fault these things happened anyway...my belly button is just rude.