As I sit here, sunday morning, watching old Disney movies that I’ve forgotten, with my children, the aches and pains momentarily fade. My crows feet are earned from sleepless nights, my blurry vision from helping children to the bathroom in the earliest hours that I usually occupy in solitude.
My kids move around effortlessly and rarely tire, I’m on the other end of the spectrum due to the tears of abuse I’ve put myself through. The bags that reside under my eyes carry the sleep deprived. Afternoon naps recharge me like they did for the girls, maybe that is the secret fountain of youth we all looks towards.
I don’t fight the “imperfection” nor do I treat it like an infection that must be fought off with pills, powders and creams. Acceptance is the rule of the day.