Despite the fact that I have only one skirt and one pair of jeans that I can still wear, I try to maintain my appearance. Although I would prefer to stay in my over sized and oh so comfy sweat pants, I force myself to squeeze into a more appropriate garment whenever I am venturing out of the house. After all, I may not feel the most attractive, but I certainly want to maintain some basic pride in my appearance. I also want Robby to be proud to see me at his school. I would hate to think that he was embarrassed by my appearance.
Yesterday was particularly hectic. After dropping off Robby I spent the remainder of the morning and much of the afternoon in various meetings. I barely made it home before it was time for me to go pick him up from school. Although I love being busy and I adore my job, I wish I had a little more time to recover and rest before the Robby Tornado overtakes the house in the evening.
Despite feeling run down and tired (my sleep issues have returned with a vengeance), I quickly brushed my hair and headed to the school. I can't say that I was feeling particularly attractive, but to be honest I haven't felt pretty in a long time. I suppose that the hormones and seemingly never ending swelling is takings its toll! Regardless, I tried to do the best to make myself presentable.
I checked Robby out on the school's attendance computer and said hello to the Principal. She looked up and remarked, "Oh my, you look really tired. Are you getting sick?" I just chuckled and replied that I have had a long day. Yikes! I knew that I wasn't looking primed for the catwalk, but I certainly didn't think that I looked like I had rolled out of my sick bed either. Walking to Robby's classroom, I wondered just how bad I must be looking if others thought I was ill?
When I walked into Robby's classroom a little boy met me at the door. "Robby's Mom, did you know that you look just like my great grandma? She's really old too!" Seriously? I look like his great grandmother? Needless to say I was not amused.
I looked at the teacher, who must have seen the horror on my face. She just shrugged and tried to assure me that I did not resemble a geriatric patient. I think she could tell by the drained look on my face that I was not in the mood to debate my age with a second grader.
Robby grabbed his coat and returned to hear his little friend repeat the similarities between me and his great grandma. Without missing a beat, Robby grabbed my head and looked at his friend. "Well Nicholas, your great grandma must be very pretty."
I love my little boy! He fails to see obvious flaws, always focusing on the positive. My pants still don't button, I still have dark circles under my eyes and I doubt that there is enough anti-aging cream at CVS to undo the hands of time. Despite all of this, he still isn't embarrassed to be seen with me. In the end, I guess that's all that matters.