Today, I’m not going to see the gray hair, or the wrinkles. I will see the smile my children put there, and the green eyes I share with them.
Today, I’m not going to pay attention to the dangling skin under my bicep, left from weight changes over the years. I will see the stronger arm that holds my children close.
Today, I’m not going to pay attention to the deflated stomach, with wrinkled, hanging skin. I’m will see the stomach that birthed my many children, and remember how hard I worked to protect them inside me while pregnant.
You don’t have to be perfect, Lisa. (Maybe if I say it enough times, I’ll actually believe it?)
I suppose all I truly want is to be a better me. The best me. The one who sees her reflection and likes what she sees, and not just a myriad of flaws staring back at her. The one who will work out for the goodness of it, not for the vanity.
The one who doesn’t worry as much over the little things, even if it makes her a better planner. I want to spend more time in the moment, and less time preparing for the moment. (Does that make sense?)
And, most of all, stop seeing only the negative in the reflection. Especially since there is so much positive.
Today, I’m not going to begrudge the toast crumbs or the plops of apple juice left on the counter as failing at cleaning.
Today, I won’t fret over the dropped ice cube that forms a puddle on the floor (that gets noticed by my suddenly frigidly wet toes), or the grit of the spilled coffee grounds sprinkled accidentally alongside the garbage can when preparing my much-needed coffee.
Today, I will react, but inhale more, form my thoughts first, before I raise my voice or become angry.
Today, I will resist the everyday frustrations, and embrace my kids a little more, for longer, and tighter. I’m going to squeeze my babies until they yell at me to stop, but only because I am so grateful.
Today, I will work hard to do my best to implement these, because today is the beginning of the rest of forever, and I oh-so-very-badly want to succeed at this whole wife and mother-to-many thing.
For me. For them. For us.