Motherhood has tattoed its story across my body.
It's showcased in the new-found, quick-drying shortness of my hair, in the blunt edges of quick and easy styling.
It's in the softness of my stomach, the swelling of my breasts heavy with milk, the deep etches of stretched skin across my abodomen, a twice-home to two sweet boys.
I see it in the love welling in my eyes, the smile lines starting to emerge around the corners of once-polished lips -- all tell-tale signs of a full, oh-so-very lived life.
When I look in the mirror, there's so much less of me and so much more than what was there just four short years ago -- less width, more depth; less drama, more character; less prescribed perfection, more me.
And that's time! Wow, five minutes flies. I've been tinkering with these thoughts, these words and writing about motherhood and my body image for awhile, and Lisa-Jo's prompt for this week's Five-Minute Friday gave me such a good time to try and organize these thoughts I've been mulling without overthinking.
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