Happy in the dressing room

I had a moment in the dressing room last week. At my house, there is no full length mirror so it's quite a shock seeing myself in technicolor. The evidence of three, hard fought pregnancies is undeniable. Yet, I was quite pleased with myself. In fact, I was happy.

Imagine that. Happy in a dressing room.

I don't have a flat, concave belly. I don't have chisled anything. Yet, I'm pleased as punch. I never expected this. My goal was not to be the fat mom. That was my first and only goal.

I can't express the relief I have, not being the fat mom. At the park I'm wearing skinny jeans and crawling in the tubes with the kids. I'm trying to do pull ups on the monkey bars. I'm laughing and chasing my tiny kids. Pretending I'm a hungry monster trying to eat their toes. They squeal with wide eyed happiness. I don't feel exhausted or dehydrated. I feel strong and pretty. Mr. Hall gives me hugs and pats me on the tush. It's all very exciting.

Let me tell you about the dresses.

Downtown, there is a consignment store I've been eyeing for years. All manner of dresses and cool vintage wear. I've been coveting. Deeply, privately and with hope. Last week I was there and wow. I am a fox when dressed properly.

There was one dress I loved the most. It was from banana republic. Retro inspired, black and white pattern. There was a red dress so beautiful, it made me blush. The owner gave a frowny face. She loved those dresses too. "But I'm too big for them". But  I'm not. To the victor go the spoils.

This is my real life. I'm capable of lifting heavy things, hopping on boxes and jump rope a mile a minute. Nothing seems impossible now. I feel smoother and taller. And it's not going to stop.