I stared at my clothes, neatly organized, looking somewhat unfamiliar. How long it had been since I’ve pulled on that skirt or stretched those tights over my legs? I can’t remember but, of course, it’s been at least nine months.
I don’t have to dress up to go into the office. At my office, it’s casual Friday every day. Jeans are more than acceptable. The owners themselves have been known to show up in t-shirts and flip flops.
But this week, I needed to dress up. Act how you want to feel. Dress how you want to feel. As if maybe by suiting up in professional, uncomfortable, fancier threads, I’d feel ready for this return. As if I could derive energy from the cotton and wool.
I zipped up my boots and then evaluated my reflection. It felt strange. Such a different view staring back at me. Such a change from maternity clothes and comfy, baggy jeans, and nursing tank tops and comfy, day-at-home sweaters.
“How do I look?”
M was giving our girl a bath but they both turned from the soap and water to look at me, standing anxiously in the doorway.
“Mommy! You look gorgeous!”
Her little girl voice was soaked in a sincerity that most adults struggle to achieve (and, often, end up sounding fake). Gorgeous is a tough word for a three year old tongue to wrap itself around. But she did it flawlessly.
This week, I am thankful for…
… the end, the end of a tough week, one of those weeks I just needed in my past.
… the kind, encouraging, ever so thoughtful words of all of you. Your support as I struggled with this return has made me smile and cry and has warmed my heart.
… neighbors who help on the roughest of days, without even really knowing it.
… warm weather and an impromptu front yard race.
… trust. And the lovely things that can happen when you give in and trust someone.
… pink pens.
… cheddar gold fish.
… slow, easy re-entry.
… packed lunches.
… coffee dates with my girl.
This week’s photo-365
Happy weekend, all. Be gorgeous.