Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Cinderella Mom

If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…

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This is 40

I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…

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Beauty on the Backroads {or Why I Changed the Name of my Blog}

I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…

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Baby sitter, emphasis on the sitter

Day 16. Today, I needed my husband’s arms. Not so much for me, but for our five-month-old. The boy would not nap today. I blame teething. And my own inability to sit still for longer than a few minutes. Maybe I should say he would not nap anywhere but in someone’s arms, and I had no patience or desire for that. Nap time is Mommy time, and I selfishly wanted it today. Each time I tried to put my son on a bed or in a pack n’ play, his eyes popped open and he gave me that “Oh, was I sleeping? ‘Cause now I’m not” look. And I just got more and more frustrated. Thankfully, my dad was home from work, so he entertained his grandson for a couple of non-sleeping hours while I took a break then finished fixing dinner.

I could have napped, too. I should have napped, too. But I resisted. And I know if my husband had been here, I could have easily plopped my sleeping son in his lap and let him be the baby sitter during nap time. This is something my husband does well and even enjoys. Especially if he’s not had a lot of time with the children. He can just sit and hold them for as long as it takes. Me? I think of a hundred other things I could, or should, be doing.

And I feel like a bad mother for admitting that, but it’s the truth. Not all “hold me” days are like this for me. Some days, I give in and take a nap, too, or get caught up on a good book.

Not sure why today was different. But we survived another day without a daddy. And found another reason we need him in our lives.

He’s got the look

Day 15. Since Tuesday, when I got my own small-scale makeover — haircut, highlights, some new clothes — I’ve been feeling different about myself. It’s pretty easy to feel frumpy as a mom, especially with two little ones around. Some days, it’s an effort just to get out of my pajamas. And with the changes to my body, few of the clothes in my closet fit right, so I relegated myself to a jeans-and-T-shirt uniform, usually with my hair pulled back in a ponytail.

But I’ve been watching a lot of “What Not to Wear” episodes lately, and the women on the show give the same excuses I give myself. “I don’t have time.” “I don’t take care of myself because I take care of my kids.” “I can’t find anything in my size.” Etc., Etc., Etc.

I decided to nip those excuses in the bud this birthday and let my mom and grandma help me update my look. I’ve actually had fun putting on clothes this week as I’ve tried out my different outfits. Granted, I don’t have a complete wardrobe, but I have enough pieces to give me a few new things to wear to church or on a date with my hubby or just to the grocery store if I don’t want to feel like I just crawled out of bed.

So far, my husband has only seen my new look on the computer via a couple of Skype calls. Today, he complimented the outfit I wore to church. I’m excited for him to be able to see the new stuff — the “new” me — in person.

As long as I can remember I’ve been self-conscious about my looks. I quit wearing my glasses in junior high because I didn’t want to look “nerdy.” I still take other people’s thoughts into consideration when getting dressed to leave the house, sure they’re going to judge this book by its cover.

While I’ve gotten plenty of compliments about the new look, my husband’s opinion matters the most. Even if he doesn’t use words, there’s a look I look for — the kind where his whole face smiles when he catches sight of me.

OK, so that’s a little bit RomCom, but some of you might know what I’m talking about. On WNTW, many of the women admit that they don’t think they’re beautiful or have never believed they’re pretty. And when co-host Clinton Kelly (who is gay) compliments something about the way they look, it’s like they realize it for the first time. I bring up his sexual orientation only because I think it’s important that the women are hearing from a man, whether he’s interested in them romantically or not, that they are pretty.

Consider that a challenge, men: We need you to tell us we’re pretty.

I know my husband appreciates me beyond what I look like on the outside, and for that I’m grateful. ‘Cause this shell of a person is only going to get saggier and baggier as the years go on. And I know that when he compliments my looks, that’s not all he’s seeing. For both of us, it’s what’s inside that keeps us together day after day.

Still, it’s fun to feel pretty and have a little extra confidence. When my husband chopped off 8 inches of his hair two weeks ago, I saw him in a whole new way. I even told him he was “hot.” (Not the sort of language I often use to describe my husband because it seems like such a shallow word.) Small changes; hopefully a bigger spark to our relationship.

And Lord willing, 10, 15, 20 years from now, we’ll be that “old” couple who still think each other is “hot” and our kids will be embarrassed to claim us.