Prior to having the Gillies, our twins, I would read stories from other moms... about dressing up their little girls in bows + having tea parties while other moms were taking frogs out of coverall pockets + cleaning mud tracks in their kitchen. And I'll be honest... I was a wee bit scared about being a mom. Not because I was going to be bad at it - I'm pretty sure the Gillies would have a lot of therapy material, but because I didn't know about tea parties... and I sure as heck didn't know anything about dump trucks or legos.
I grew up as a tomboy sorta... I guess. What do you call a girl who played almost every sport their small town offered but also participated in pagents and cheered at football games? Seriously. At the Friday night football games, I would cheer until halftime then join the marching band by playing the bass drum (and yea, played the piccolo in orchestra). I was an odd duck and being a mama bear scared me... would I be good at tea parties + Barbie dolls? Would I build awesome forts + chase monsters with swords? I did not know.
When pregnant and more so, after folks knew we were having twins, I would always get the question... "Do you know what y'all are having? What are you hoping for?" And my reply would be, "As long as they are healthy, I do not care." It was true - healthy was what I was praying for... BUT I was also terrified because I didn't know... tea parties or fort building. Big bows and frilly dresses or little bowties and suspenders.
And this is when I think God smiled down + chuckled at me. In my mind, He finds me quite humorous, especially when I make declarations about things that will happen in the future. He laughs HARD at those.
Example: I declared LOUDLY in our veterinary clinical pathology class, I would NEVER live in Pennsylvania (to a classmate who is from there)... God chuckled... fast forward 4 years later, I moved there for a job and we lived there for almost two years. (sigh)
Back to my point, God chuckled... because we were blessed with the Gillies. A blond hair blue- eyed boy who is a Southern charmer just like his daddy who loves to build forts, chase monsters with swords and attend tea parties. We call him "Little Man" in our stories here. We were also blessed with a brown hair brown-eyed firecracker who is so much like her mama it is scary. Little Miss loves to host tea parties, dress up in bows and can sword fight like nobody's business.
It's amazing... they are so much like the hubster + I (and all the good bits of us, none of the bad... knock on wood). My heart is full... so full. And we are TRULY blessed. Their story is one to be shared a different day when mama's heart is not so raw... but our 27-weekers are beautiful reminders that God performs miracles every day.
Now. The title of this story is being a "boy mom" is not what I expected, so, I'll get to the point. But thought you could use a wee bit of a backstory first.
See, Little Miss is quite like me... and being a girl, I know sorta how to navigate around her (wow. I am going to EAT THOSE WORDS when she hits 14+, but I'll keep going). Little Miss says ridiculously cute things + has sassy britches on the next moment... she is feisty + compassionate... she is independent + stubborn. Yep, her mama's daughter, alright!
On the flip side, Little Man is someone I was not prepared for... sure, he is the spitting image of his daddy + a charmer just like him. He can peer up at you with those big blue eyes and bat them slightly with a coy smile... ugh, heart melts just typing about it. He is also just as mischievous as the hubster and can get Little Miss to do things he knows aren't allowed. Seriously. He is like Hannibal on the A-Team... always coming up with a plan that no one else can see- yet. BUT, he also can utter the PERFECT words at the PERFECT time in the SWEETEST voice... and that's something that I didn't expect as a "boy mom".
Here's our story (FINALLY RIGHT):
Now, let's set the scene.
Warm spring day, hubster comes home early from work right before I planned on doing a workout with the Gillies, our twins. Hubster suggested I take the workout outside, because I LOVE working out in the sunshine plus there will be less distractions which means harder push, right?
Anywho. The outfit of choice was going to be running pants + tank top but the hubster casually mentioned, it's 90+ degrees outside and you may want to consider shorts. Smart man. Now. It should be noted that I rarely wear shorts... because of paleness, thigh dimples (we call thigh laugh lines, most folks call it cellulite) and varicose veins. But I thought, "why not?" We live in the boonies, no one will see me, plus I may get some Vitamin D on these bad boys. So, after digging in the closet for my only pair of workout shorts... I pulled them up quickly, avoiding eye contact in the bedroom standing mirror and raced into the living room.
Our twins were sitting at the table with their little iPads (aka. Leapfrog devices their grandma got them for their birthday) and Little Man smiled up at me to say...
Ugh. You guessed it... I busted out crying right there because I'm a major weeper. We hugged and I walked outside to start the workout. During the workout, his words kept playing in my mind... you are gorgeous. You are gorgeous. You are gorgeous. Each time, I looked down and attempted to look at my legs (difficult when the paleness is blinding you from the sun), I heard his words.
It made me realize two things:
1. Our twins don't see mama's cellulite, I mean thigh dimples. They don't see mama's pale legs. They don't see mama's varicose veins. They don't see mama's patchy hair job. They see MAMA... working out or riding a bike or in a bathing suit along side with them. They see MAMA in that moment, living. being joyful. laughing. They see MAMA not her legs, but her.
2. Okay. I am obviously NOT happy with my legs appearance... BUT I am happy and truly appreciate their ability to walk, to chase after the Gillies in the living room, to dance with them in the kitchen, to carry Little Man when he needs me, etc. I am in awe of their strength to constantly lift things and to run, heck, they carried my booty 150 miles across the Sahara desert... these thighs are quite amazing.
So. If I'm not HAPPY about their appearance... it's okay. I appreciate my legs + each day, I'm taking action steps with being more comfortable showing them off (by focusing on mindset... working out... nutrition... and shaving better 😳)!
Here's the point, being a boy mom is freaking amazing... so is being a girl mom... so is being a twin mom... and a preemie mom. Each day, our Gillies teach me something NEW about myself + about life.
What I learned here is, if you are unhappy with something (your thighs, your kitchen pantry, your business launch), it's okay.
Simply, take a beat to see the beauty + take action towards moving forward in being happy... maybe that's mindset. maybe it's working out. maybe it's finishing a project. maybe it's decluttering. Just take action but appreciate WHERE YOU ARE, too, love.
If you know a good clean sunless tanner, drop it down below, love... because mama was reflecting sunbeams off these pale legs and blinding folks!
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love + gumption.
The Brain + Gut Health Explorer