In A Little Boy’s Eyes….

Fellow moms, I’ve been there. I’ve been wearing the same t-shirt for the last 2 to 3 to 5 or 6 days. Not sure the last time I wore something besides yoga pants and I only own sports bras nowadays. Cute, attractive, beautiful, sexy, pretty, none of those really could be used to describe me.

Granted, I’ve always been a little behind the fashion trend. Like a decade behind. Like I went to college in 1999 still with big bangs and overalls….how my roommate (who was far more fashionable and had more shoes then I had ever seen) didn’t disown me and kick me out the moment we met is beyond me (Thanks Allison). I wore tennis shoes with my wedding dress, I refuse to wear skinny jeans, I own one pair of heels which I’ve worn twice, a pair of flats that I wear for anything nice or a couple pairs of Danskos/Sanitas that are not covered in bodily fluids from work, and two pairs of running shoes.

My go-to shoes. Mud included.
My go-to shoes. Mud included.

Thinking back I think part of my decision to become an ER doctor was based on the fact that I could wear scrub bottoms and a T-shirt that had “Emergency Room” printed on the back every day/night for work. No “dressing up” for clinics required. I of course also love the wackiness of the day to day and the moment to moment of the ER but that’s a totally different subject.

And don’t get me started on make-up. I wear a powder everyday because my skin is so oily it’s the only way to keep from sliding and shining off everything. But it stops about there. Chapstick and lip gloss on good days. I had my friend try to explain eye shadow to me last year. I watched multiple youtube videos on it, and finally decided that it would be considered a victory if I remembered to wear mascara to church once a month.

I have a number of friends that “know” what is actually fashionable and look great all the time. Like my friend Amy who blogs over at Mombot. She even has a “what I wore” that she posts fairly regularly. And trust me, what she wore is way cuter then my yoga pants and t-shirt.

But none of that seems to matter to my little boys. They think I am gorgeous. And the look of awe in their eyes melts my heart every time. The other night I came downstairs on my way to ballet class in capris and a tank top with my hair in a pony tail (because it’s finally almost long enough if I wear a headband and add a few extra barrettes), and Caedmon said “Mommy you are pwetty”, and Leighton quickly chimed in “wow mommy, you look so nice, I like your hair”. I felt like a million bucks.

As they grow to become men, I pray that I can teach them that a women’s heart is far more important than what is on the outside, and that being dressed in righteousness is far more life changing then yoga pants vs the latest trends. But they remind me that it’s not what the media says that makes me beautiful or not, but rather I will always be the first women that they find beautiful and with that I must teach them how to value and cherish a woman for who she is no matter the circumstances. It’s a tall order to fill, but I’m ready…yoga pants and all.

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