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Mommy Dearest

"Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children." 

                                                                                      - William Makepeace Thackeray

Yeah....no pressure.

Today as I'm getting ready for work, applying my makeup and straightening my clothes, a little voice in the distance says, "You look beautiful, Mommy."

She's told me this before and I always thank her and accept the compliment. This time, however, it struck me particularly hard because as I was looking at myself in the mirror, I was thinking everything opposite to her sentiment; I am PMSing=bloated, I have a zit on my chin, I need to wax my upper lip and I perpetually want to lose about 20 pounds. Yet somehow, with all my insecurities, this sweet little soul thinks I'm beautiful. It's enough to make this premenstrual girl emotional.

It took me a long time to get to a place where I could even accept a compliment from anyone for anything at all. I was always quick to contradict you, a smart-ass quip at the ready. I know, I know...charming, right? If someone takes the time to give me kind words nowadays, I say, "Thank You" and smile. And to be honest, it usually makes my day.

But it goes so much further than being gracious or having good manners now. The attitude and perception of me that I convey to the world has a teeny-tiny audience of one. A literal mini-me who's ability to love herself will be directly learned from watching/hearing her Mama.

And that's me.

I'm trying to carefully to watch my words. Very soon, this perfect little girl will start to become a woman and I'm very aware that it is my job (probably one of the most important of my life) to teach her to love herself. All of herself. To know her worth. It makes me sad that she'll never see herself through my eyes. For, to me, she's perfect. Her easy smile. Those giant brown eyes. Her gentle spirit. Her wit.

But, just like the women before her, puberty will come. Hormones will rage and she will see herself differently. This is when I'm hoping and praying she'll hear our voices. She may not even realize their ours. In fact, I'm hoping that the little voice inside will be her voice as she'll undoubtedly be a strong and independent young woman just like me, her Mimi and her Great Grandma Dee. And it'll guide her through those years we all had to get through.

My role in this now is to love myself. Unfortunately, this doesn't come easy for me. But I'm getting better. My 40's have become a time to embrace myself. All of myself. I will never be perfect. But, I'm pretty f****** great. At least she seems to think so. Maybe it's a little sad that I'll never see myself through her eyes. For, to her, I am perfect. She does, after all, have my giant brown eyes, my easy smile. The gentle spirit, though, is her Father's.

Yeah, she's gonna be fine.




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