What They See

On my wedding day, I was 5'8" and weighed 125 pounds.  I worked as a physical therapist in a physically demanding job and worked out just about every day.  I taught group exercise (aka aerobics - dating myself here) classes and ran regularly, among other forms of exercise.  I thought I had fat thighs. 

Fifteen months later, I gave birth to our first child.  Almost instantaneously, I became less concerned about every little imperfection on my body.  I looked at myself and thought I resembled the women in renaissance paintings - curvy, maternal-looking.  Did I mind?  No.  Kind of liked it, actually. 

For years prior, the thought of anyone catching a glimpse of what I considered a less-than-ideal rear end in running tights (or whatever form-fitting pants I occasionally wore) was horrifying to me.  I always wore a sweater or shirt long enough to cover that.  All of a sudden, I had curves and some extra lumps here and there, and I really did not care who knew it. 

My whole concept of what my body was for had suddenly changed. 

My husband, God bless him, tells me how pretty I am no matter what state of pre-, post-, or right-in-the-thick of pregnancy I happen to be. 

I'm not advocating a just-let-yourself-go mentality here.  Staying healthy is important!  What I'm suggesting is that motherhood drastically changed my perception of what my body should be and what behaviors in me were most important to the well-being of my family.

My first child is a girl.  Do I want her to grow up thinking that her most important attribute is her outward appearance?  Do I want her to think physical perfection (who even knows what that is!) is something she should obsess over?  Do I want her to torture herself by comparing herself to airbrushed models in magazines?  Absolutely not.  I realized early on that the first person she would learn that stuff from is me. 

So, I exercise as much as I can.  We eat pretty healthfully around here.  I try to teach my kids about good nutrition and the pitfalls of too much sugar.  But, do we enjoy treats and hit a drive thru now and again?  Heck yes. 

When my 6 year old jumps in my lap and squeezes me around the neck, does she care that my belly is more round than it used to be?  When my 2 year old looks in my eyes, smiling and singing, does he care about the crow's feet and laugh lines? 

My husband, who cares about my health and longevity, makes sacrifices so I can get away and exercise.  He rejoices with me when a few more baby pounds melt away and I can get into smaller pants.  But, does he make me feel less attractive when I am in the process?  No. 

I am blessed with such a man. 

I hope when my kids look back on their childhood, they remember a mom who smiled and laughed and hugged them a lot.  I hope they learn that exercise and nutritious food makes a person feel better.  I'm pretty sure they won't consider whether what size of jeans their mom was wearing when we went to the beach or decorated the Christmas tree.  Lots of love - that's what I want my family to see in me.  I hope they do.