When in reality they look more like this:
Starting my undergrad classes at Mom University, I find myself toting a freshman 15 I cannot seem to get rid of. And people expect you to get rid of it.
But this week I decided I don't care what a number on the scale says and will not be starting out the day stepping on it to see if I am down a pound or not. I'm not wasting time in mourning my newly striped belly. Because they are now a constant reminder of what I have been through to get to where I am now. I just don't care anymore, because where I am now is MAJESTIC and GLORIOUS.
This girl is worth it. Every stretch mark, every pound, and every spit up stain on my shirt. I know what my purpose in life is. To watch this girl grow and teach her what it means to love. To love herself, to love those around her, and to love God. And it seems all over the place people are wanting to take a piece of that glory. To steal away precious moments of majesty by spending more time obsessing about getting back into those pre-pregnancy clothes, to be able to have it all and do it all, and to feel like being a mom is not enough. But it is enough. And so much more. It is hard. It is tiring. But every smile, every giggle, and every little milestone she reaches makes my heart soar. (And who knew watching someone roll over was so exciting!?)
So it is with pride I put on my mom jeans and thank the inspiring woman who first taught me the true beauty of them.