Being a mother you really need great self-esteem. You know, for when your kids make comments about your appearance? When they point out your spots and your wobbles... OK, is that just me, then?
I'm learning to laugh it off. I mean, I'm not getting any younger, this is as good as it's gonna get from here on in. So if I can't live with myself knowing I'm no longer twenty-five, trim, toned and terrific, then I'm going to be pretty miserable for the rest of my life, dontcha think??
The other day for instance. I am sitting at my computer, and Miss Fab is right next to me; we are turning her drawings into my new blog header and she is watching closely. Ve-e-e-rrry closely. She is staring intently at me, with a puzzled frown on her face.
"M-u-u-um? Did you know that your face is all, um, crinkly????" she blurts.
I can't help myself, I just crack up laughing. Crinkly! My face is crinkly! Yep. I'm 40. What can I say? My skin can no longer stand up to intense microscropic scrutiny. I mean, I had to laugh right? Laugh or cry?? I choose laugh.
Then last night. The other kids are in the Land of Nod, but Dash sneaks out and squirms in beside me on the couch.
"I want a snuggle," he says wrapping himself around me, and wriggling in close.
I should probably growl at him and tell him to get to bed, but I actually enjoy our after-bedtime chats and the fact that my lanky seven-year-old comes to cuddle his mama. So we chat. He asks for stories. He cuddles in and says with a sigh, "Oh you are just so warm!"
I smile at him; there are times when being a curvy mama has it's advantages. I decide to test the waters.
"Do you think you would like snuggles with mummy as much if I were all boney???" I ask.
"Mmmmm," he replies, "Well it's good that you are squishy because you're warm..." Then he pauses and stares intently at my face; we are practically nose to nose.
"...But mum did you realise that there are cracks around your eyes... and on your face... here - and here - and here...?"
Cracks!!! All of a sudden I am giggling like a schoolgirl. I have cracks! Hilarious.
Maybe it's strange, but I am at peace with my 40-year-old self.
I've decided I don't mind having cracks and crinkles and being squishy - as long as my kids like to snuggle me because I'm warm.
