The new me is the old me

There are lots of mirrors in my aunt Peggy's Beachhouse. Walls and walls of big tall mirrors. And you know what? I'm pretty happy with what I see. It's strange to feel like a real mom. But I do finally feel like one, and she is starting to stare back at me. I'm a mom and a women. I'm getting old. I'm always tired. I don't look too young to be here anymore. I'm a fine weight. Whatever. And I've got a haircut that says, "I love myself. But I love my children more." Or maybe it says, "Hair is fun, but changing world is more important." And perhaps it even says, "I got this cut at Great Clips for $13 and gave a $10 tip." And I've got gray hairs, too. I've got lots of them. They make me feel connected to some really special women in my life who also have gray hairs and choose keep them gray. My hands are starting to remind me of my earliest memories of my mother's hands. I held my mother's hands a lot. My kids will start noticing mine soon. I've got painted toe nails this week, which I never usually have but quite enjoy looking at. And I've got a little bit of nice cleavage from all those nursing babies. I have once again settled into a uniform. Black maternity leggings and black Reef flip-flops. Sometimes I wear an ugly sweater. It's cozy and for some reason it brings out the best in me and it is always there encouraging me to have that hard talk or to have a snack waiting when the crew gets off the bus. My ugly sweater is also my favorite sweater, and it's always there to tell the world and my husband, "I know I'm wearing an ugly sweater. Deal with it." And don't tell -- I think I'm growing a bit of a mustache. Haven't had one for a decade -- but it's back and it's dark -- and if I have time I may so something about it. I've got cute glasses. I've got nice skin. But I'm looking old. I'm wearing my story, and I love it. So that's it. Aunt Peggy's beach house is full of mirrors. And I like what I see.