They think I am beautiful

My daughters say the funniest things to me. They love me and tell me I am the most beautiful woman in the world. But they also tell me a few other things about my appearance. I think often, how fortunate that I have a fairly solid self esteem, because if I didn’t, yikes. . .

Sophia was having a sleep over with a girlfriend last night, so it was just Stella and I for the evening. I asked her what she wanted to do and she decided that a Mom and daughter bubble bath was in order. I was looking across the tub at her angelic almost 7 year old face with her smooth, flawless skin, bright eyes and darling little firm body and I think I was genuinely envious for a moment -- and then truly amazed that I could help create such a perfect little person. I said, “Stella, you are absolutely beautiful. I wish I looked just like you.” She looked at me and said with complete sincerity “Mom, you’re beautiful. And you do look like me. I might always be younger and prettier, but you’re the most beautiful Mom ever.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Stella will tell you like it is. What ever is on her mind will come out at the exact moment she’s thinking it. I’ve been told that she’s a bit like her Mom in that way.

Then when we were sitting on the couch later, and she was really staring at my face, and she asked when she will get wrinkles. Again, I laughed. But she told me, with certainty, that she liked mine just fine. About the time she asked if she should “pull out” the little grey hairs sticking up out of head, I told her, emphatically, that I would prefer she leave my grey hairs alone – I need all of the them, I explained to her. And then I told her to watch the movie and stop staring at me! I can only take so much scrutiny in one evening.

I’ve had these moments with Sophia, my 9 year old as well. I was getting out the shower one day and she walked right up to me and pushed my boobs up a bit and told me that they would look better “there.” Obviously, we’re a family with few boundaries as far as personal space goes. Anyway, she announced to me she was going to have big boobs, obviously, unlike mine. I was laughing at this point. After another perusing once-over of my naked body, she added that my backside was a bit floppy. My immediate thought was “Do you know how many squats I do? Doing the best I can little girl!” But then she finished up by telling me how beautiful I was.

Trying to end this “complement” session with my oldest daughter, I broke some things down for her, gently of course. I said, “Sophia, there is a good chance that your boobs will not be bigger than mine. Either way, you get what God gives you. And as far as my “floppy” back side is concerned, it’s really pretty okay for my age -- and your very “bootylicious” backside (her word for her butt) will look just like mine someday. It’s called gravity. Same for the boobs. Things don’t stay where they are supposed to after children and aging. You do the best with what you’ve got.”

Now it was Sophia’s turn to laugh out loud. She didn’t believe a dang thing I said. But she assured me once again, how beautiful she thinks I am. And unlike her, I chose to believe exactly what she said.