Darling, you look perfect.

Is one of those cold breeze mornings where your self-esteem shares a room with your socks, yes… all the way down next to the last drawer of the cabinet inside the closet in the bottom rack.

No pants fit the way you want, the sweatshirts are baggier than usual, the boots make you look shorter, the vest adds an extra layer of bulkiness in your midsection, you attempt to copy a scarf knot you found on Pinterest, ending tangled up and nearly died of suffocation, you change your outfit about three times before stepping out of the room, and is just 5:50 in the morning. What the freaking heck right?

Morning routine… wake up children, drag them out of bed, walk the dogs, clean up dog’s mess, freeze your soul, get back and check if the kids are finally dressed and ready for school, of course, they are not.

Breakfast, lunch bag, backpacks, homework, all checked and set. Nagging and ranting all the way to school:

  • Mum why is so cold? Because there’s a cold front
  • Mum, I don’t want to listen to that song! Too bad, that’s the one in the playlist.
  • Mum, my sister is calling me names! Don’t make up weird names, just regular ones.
  • Mum! (inaudible) Mhm and sipped my coffee.
  • Mum! Mhm, nod and sipped my coffee.
  • I’m out late today, don’t forget! I know… seriously! have I ever? Don’t answer that! Bye, little one!
  • Mum, I don’t want to go today, he’ll be there!. Suck it up buttercup, nothing you can do about it, focus on your work, on your class and avoid eye contact, the school is large enough for you not to see each other.
  • Mum, but mum… I know it hurts, you are sad and the weather doesn’t help at all, but remember that when you close one door behind you is for you to move forward, not to keep staring at the closed door darling, do you get it?
  • I guess… Now chop chop princess, or you will be late.

Drove my SUV as if in an obstacle course out of the school parking lot and head home, the coffee mug is empty and no way I’m making a 30-minute line for a refill, my body feels like I’m in a walking-dead carpool episode.

I get back, and there is nothing but silence, turned on the music and my playlist blast  “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers, and it just hit me… Nobody told me I looked ok today, or wrong or right, just… nothing.

Bloody hell, am I wearing the freaking invisibility cloak? When was the last time someone noticed I changed the color of my hair? The length, or the pounds off? I believe being taken for granted is the worst insult a mother can get.

I went to the mirror, looked at myself and said to the freaking image:  “Darling, you look perfect!”

And as usual, I doodle my thoughts and feelings aways, this time I sketched with graphite, last time I sketched this way was more than 3 decades ago…

Maybe too early for a martini, but an Irish coffee could certainly come in handy, too bad I’m driving later on, so I have to wait.

Anyway, to all the peeps out there, take a look at yourself and remember…

“Darling, you look perfect”


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