Self-Image

If there's one thing I've learned about myself in the last 8-1/2 years, it's that I'm never gonna manage to live up to my own self-image. Maybe that's a good thing, and maybe it's not ... I'm still trying to figure that out. I just know that the picture of who I am in my head doesn't really line up with the lady I see in the mirror anymore.

Don't get me wrong ... I love being a mom (at least most of the time). It's the one job I always wanted, and I'm grateful that I'm getting the chance to fulfill that dream. Somehow, though, there was always a gap, I guess, in my head between actually BEING a mom and LOOKING like a mom. In my head I still see the size 6-8 young lady I was in my teens and twenties. I found a look that worked for me and I loved it. Accenting things like my trim waist and long legs became second nature to me ... in many respects, it was just who I WAS.

Then I was blessed with a wonderful husband and 3 children in 5 years. I jumped into the role of full-time mommy whole-heartedly, and even though I'm still learning how to juggle all the joys and responsibilities, I'm thankful every day for the chance to do it. Being a Mommy has become almost as natural to me as any other part of my normal life.

Once in a while, I pass a mirror, though, and wonder what happened to the person I remember. Now I actually LOOK like a Mommy. I spend most days in jeans and a t-shirt, because it's easy to go from cleaning to cooking to child-care to whatever in it. More often than not, I've got my hair yanked up in a pony-tail or some such thing, because it keeps it out of the way of the chores and little fingers. Where I used to somehow feel undressed without my makeup on, now I'm doing good to "put my face on" on Sunday morning before church. My trim waist isn't any more ... I'm not heavy, but I look like I've had three kids. Most of the time I don't worry about it, until and unless the occasional someone asks me when the next baby is due. Then I start pondering an old-fashioned girdle or something. Or doing something unthinkable, like trying to find extra time for a dreaded "regular exercise routine" beyond the normal stuff I do during the day. (Fortunately, something usually comes up and that thought doesn't last long!) I look in the mirror now, and see my mother ... and though I love her dearly, somehow the thought always startles me as I'm sure it does every generation of women.

When I occasionally get to feeling discouraged about the whole thing, though, a ray of sunshine brightens my day  ... most often in the form of my husband. He is loving and caring and so many of the things I hoped for in a man I would marry. He doesn't care whether I wear makeup ... he says he prefers me without it. He has even been known to tell me he likes to come home and see me all frazzled, because he knows I've been doing all the things that I need and want to do. He tells me I'm beautiful when I feel the most bedraggled, and though I don't always completely believe him, I am glad that he thinks so, because I don't really think of myself in those terms anymore ... I'm too busy being Mommy.

And perhaps the biggest blessing of having a man like this in my life is that his children listen, and they learn. They randomly call me beautiful on days when I don't necessarily feel that way, and I smile at the future, because I know some day those words will probably encourage a Mommy of my grandchildren, and she, as I, will feel blessed.

Old age, digital age, and somewhere in between

I don't know if it's because I'm a Mom, or if it's because I've hit "middle age" or what, but it seems like I've been thinking a lot lately about things that seem to have gotten lost over the years. When I was growing up there were things that we learned and it was just taken for granted that this is the way things should be done. Things like learning to write letters and thank you notes, or calling folks older than yourself "Mr." and "Mrs.", unless you were given permission to call them something else. Things that we thought of as common courtesies, and yet as I ponder them now, I wonder if most kids will ever learn a lot of them. Of course, I know it's my job to teach my kids these things, but for the moment that's not what I'm talking about.

I want my kids to be able to take advantage of all the things that our "digital age" has to offer, but I also want to be sure that they don't get caught up in the mentality that says you have to hurry through your life trying to get to the next milestone. Sometimes as parents we make that mistake, because when our kids come into the world we instantly start looking forward to the day when they will be smiling, sleeping through the night, sitting up, crawling, walking, talking, and everything else we can think of. Our kids pick up on this and start looking forward to the day that they can start school, start hobbies, sleep over with friends, get to the weekend, learn to drive, graduate from high school, get a job, get their own place, and so on. It seems all of us, as a people, are in so much of a hurry to "get there" that we forget to enjoy the journey. And in an age that seems to be determined to make everything quicker and more convenient, it seems to me like it's even more important to teach my kids about how to slow down and be thoughtful, how to make memories and how to share them, and how to be thankful for the experiences of others.

Most of what I have been thinking about in the last few days is the fading art of letter writing. There was a time in this country that letter writing was the only way to keep up with what was happening with friends and family. I didn't live in that time period as much as some older folks I know, but I do remember when getting letters in the mail was more common, and we looked forward to the arrival of the mail carrier. There was nothing quite like the heart-leap you felt when you found an envelope with familiar handwriting in the mailbox, and you went off immediately to find a quiet spot and find out what your loved one had to say. In this day and age, although we can communicate with folks much faster by email, it seems that our incentive to communicate has dwindled.

When my husband and I were first engaged, I made it a point of writing my grandmother every week, keeping her up to date on all the plans and other things that were going on. I did this because I loved her, and because I didn't think she was going to get to come to the wedding. (She did get to come due to the generosity of my uncles, and I was thrilled!) Before my oldest son was born, I often wrote him letters, telling him about the things that I wished for him. As one child and then another came along, I lost the time to sit and write letters as much, but I've been thinking I'd like to get back to doing it. And one of the main group of letters I want to write is to my sons.

It may be, Lord willing, that I will live long enough to teach them all the things I want to teach them and more. Or, with the family history that we have of dementia and Alzheimer's (at least four generations that I'm aware of), it may be that I begin to lose the memories before my kids are old enough to take an interest in them. But I can write them letters about our life together now, or about my life as a child. I can tell them about people that I've known and loved, and places I've seen. I can tell them about my outlook on life, and the things I hold most dear. I can tell them family stories and about the people who came before us. I can tell them so many things that I want them to know, and I want to be sure I have time to tell them these things no matter what life has in store. I want them to be able to sit down and not only read what I have to say, but the way I say them, so they have memories of what their Mom was like long after I am gone.

So I hope you'll excuse me now ... I have letters to write.