Most of my adult life people have told me that I look younger than I am. It was mostly amusing and occasionally irritating, like when I tried to get a quote on a wedding cake as an almost twenty-one year old and was questioned in a shocked voice if I was even sixteen yet. But I never really believed that I looked as young as they said. I knew my own face, I knew that I was aging.
A few days ago I got a Google picture notification letting me know that I had memories to view from fourteen years ago. I opened the app to see chubby cheeked Peter when he was still the only child. I was twenty-six, nearly twenty-seven, when the picture was taken.
And I look like I'm about fifteen.
Seriously, I was shocked at how young I looked. I guess all those people were right, I did look crazy young.
Don't worry though, I'm pretty sure having an additional four children, raising those children, zig-zagging across the country, and living through the last year have brought my visible age equal to my actual age. Heck, I may have even swung the other direction.
The takeaway? Motherhood makes you look old. Totally worth it and important? Yes. Ages you like crazy? Also, yes.
No comments:
Post a Comment