I stared at myself in the Target mirror.
Confronted face to face, yet again, with my arch nemesis: skinny jeans.
I get what’s supposed to happen in theory: cuteness. It just never seems to happen for me.
How I loathe a dressing room mirror.
I stare into it and all I see is a body damaged. Flabs of skin. Marks where there was once smoothness.
It’s hard to see this motherhood as a gift when you stare at that, knowing that you’ll never get it back to how it was. Even if you start that diet you’ve been meaning to start and do those lunges you’ve been meaning to do.
I can’t pretend I’m totally cool with it. Even though we all know that children are worth it. In fact, it’s hard to be cool with any of it some days.
Baby weight. Lack of sleep and bags under my eyes. Frazzled hair and hurried days.
I want to close my eyes and press the reset button.
The biggest mistake we can make with this motherhood, with this life, is to see it only for what it is.
To see our babies and our children as beings full of only endless needs. To forget the beings behind the tiny faces.
Every bit of inconvenience and pain is not just the chance to be spread, it’s the chance for you to grow . You’ll think that you can’t. But you’ll come to find out that you were wrong.
Inconvenience is the language of love this season. Interruption its song, burden its comfort.
When Jesus loved, it was messy. It was inconvenient, it was burdensome.
Sometimes, this motherhood is going to hurt, going to sting. Going to feel tedious. Going to feel unending.
But we can’t fumble through it, even though that’s easier sometimes. I have been so, so guilty of that lately. Just hurrying through the days until a new season comes.
It’s when I stop and savor and let myself be used then things make more sense. I find more comfort during the uncomfortable.
If you see motherhood solely as a “what you have to give and give up” kind of business, then it will run you rampant and suck the life out of you.
You have to see it for the tiny faces, the chance to grow. The chance to comfort. The chance to love.
Suddenly, that doesn’t seem half bad.
(But if any of you really know where I could find a nice pair of skinny jeans, let me know.)