Coming to Terms

I've realized that there are so many things I've had to learn to come to terms with. First, there's this extra baby weight that comes and goes. But then I realize that I can no longer call it baby weight-the last baby I had is now 4. I think that hardly qualifies as baby weight. After a marathon, several half marathons, killing myself at the gym and finally losing weight only to find it AGAIN, I've had to come to terms with this chubby me. At least once a day I look in the mirror and say, "Wow my butt is huge!" Then comes acceptance-reluctantly, but acceptance nonetheless. And so I have come to terms with that.

Second, is that I am surrounded by talented women. And I, unfortunately am talentless. I don't sew fabulously, in my case it's at all, I don't sing beautifully-I'm lucky if I'm even in the right key. I don't have a beautifully decorated home and have come to terms that it is not even nicely organized. I don't decorate cakes, or make cutesy little crafts and the like. Yet I have come to terms with the home I do keep. It is more messy than it is tidy. It is loud and crowded and even if I could decorate a cake I wouldn't have the time.

So my point in all this is that though I have a conjured image in my mind of the perfect woman, I am content with being me. Imperfect in so many aspects, but humble, loving, caring, dedicated and first and foremost a mother. I gladly accept the small talents a loving Heavenly Father saw fit to bestow upon me, even if they hide in the shadows of many other grandiose talents of those around me. I can accept the physical attributes I've been given, despite the fact that I lack height, but not weight. I gladly embrace the life I've been blessed to lead, no matter how hectic, disorganized or challenging. Coming to terms with all this helps me to LOVE everything about myself. This is something I've finally learned to do after 35 years. Quite frankly, it feels good.