greener grass.

I kind of despise the phrase "the grass is always greener on the other side". I feel like it's one of those cliched quotes that gets thrown out at random times, usually after you just poured your heart out to someone who responds with that quote.

Green grass?!? After a heartfelt admission. Shank.

I've had very, very few serious relationships in my life. Three in fact, maybe four if I'm being generous. Don't get me wrong, I dated (a lot), but very few were actually worth hanging out with for more than a minute week or so.

I genuinely loved being single in college. I spent all of high school in a relationship and when that ended decided that it was time to just have fun and figure out me. Then a friend would get into a relationship and our time would be cut in half and I would kinda sorta want what she had.

Then there were the times when I was in a relationship and all my friends were going out and having a blast while I was stuck at home watching a lame-o movie with a guy and I totally wanted what they had...

Grass, greener, much?

Last night I was stalking looking at pictures on Facebook of a friend's wedding back home, and I felt it; that pang. The pang of wanting what someone else had.

All of a sudden, I missed that early stage. I missed the showers, the total attention of being the bride, the newness of a brand new marriage. I missed the giggles of figuring out how to live with someone new, the excitement of finally being called a "Mrs.", the joy of writing your new last name for the first time. I missed the first home, the new puppy your hubs brought home, the not being able to keep your hands off each other newlywed stage.

Sigh...

I sat there last night and ached with missing that stage of life. The new home is long since gone, the puppy is a six year old dog, and the newlywed stage has been replaced by the toddler stage.

I looked around and saw the Heartguard on the counter, the monitor buzzing at my elbow, the dogs asleep on the floor, and then... I smiled.

The newlywed stage is awesome, don't get me wrong. But this? Sitting in a house with six years of acquired "stuff", two dogs and a cat who've joined the journey, a new baby, and a man who I now know like the back of my hand; this is better.

True, the nights we can't keep our hands off each other are few and far between, replaced by nights where we both fall exhausted on the couch at bedtime. And sometimes I miss the newness of it all, but we had that. It was great, but right now, there is no greener grass than what I'm currently walking through life on.

born this way.

Let's get real here for just a second.

Every single day, I look at my daughter and tell her how pretty she is. Of course I also tell her how smart she is, how funny she is, how sweet she is, and how bad she is (at that moment).

Just being honest.

The other day after I told her how pretty she was for oh, the three thousandth time, a thought raced across my mind. I was told once to not focus compliments on the physical, but instead to focus on intelligence, humor, or something along those lines. The thinking is so that one wouldn't put too much stock in looks, because looks fade.

While I get that, and I wholeheartedly agree that looks aren't everything, sometimes a girl just likes to hear she's pretty.

I hope that I don't raise BG to only focus on looks. Sometimes I feel convicted about the People magazines laying around touting skinny girls all over their covers or the tv shows with ridiculously pretty people running around in super expensive clothes. I don't want my daughter ever to compare herself to those images and feel she comes up short.

Ever.

I have this odd sense of self confidence. I have NEVER been skinny. When I was in high school, I was super athletic and very toned but I still weighed 150 pounds. Yep. I said it. In numbers. However, it worked for me. Sometimes I felt like a beast among my super skinny friends, but most of the time, I felt great. I dated the most popular guy in school, hung out with all the popular kids, and was Prom Queen. I felt like I owned who I was.

That's not to say that I didn't struggle when I looked in the mirror. My thighs touch. Always have and pretty safe to say, they always will. I have a huge smile with tiny teeth. Lots of gum showing here people. I hate my nose. It has no shape and when I was little I wore a clothespin on it to try and make it skinnier. Didn't work. I got b*oobs at a very young age and tried to tape them down. Now I miss those perky little boogers more than I can even explain. I have very thin, very fine, hard to do anything with hair. Until college, it was board straight and wouldn't do a thing.

But...

I was born that way.

Does that mean that I won't work my arse off to try and get my thighs to freaking separate for the love of all that is holy?

No. I'll work those suckers til I die.

But I've come to accept that I have a big smile. It's actually become my thing earning me endearing nicknames like "the Joker" and being one thing people recognize about me. It's something I search for in my child because I'm dying to pass it down.

My nose? Still blah. And slightly crooked after multiple sports injuries. But it's mine. It tells my stories.

My b*oobs? Well I'm pretty sure they're gone forever. Unless I can convince the hubs that cosmetic surgery would make a great Mother's Day gift one year. Right....

My body tells a story. It tells my story. It's my greatest asset and my greatest insecurity. It carried my child to term, it housed my others for a short time, it walked down the aisle, it paid for college.

It's mine.

I am very well aware that BG will face insecurity. Probably from a very young age thanks to the media and our nation's fascination with size. I just hope that she's confident in who she is, insecurities and all. I hope she owns it and knows that there is a reason she was born the way she is.

So what is it about you that makes you crazy? That you keep hidden? Today is your day.. own it, because as Gaga says "I'm beautiful in my way cause God makes no mistakes, I'm in the right track baby I was born this way".

Word, Gaga, word.