I'm not a frequent sharer of personal photos here at snackdinner. But I am sharing this photo for all the reasons I deleted it.
My arm looks huge.
The camera is shooting up my nose.
My chin is hinting at doubling.
My eyes are tired and puffy after dealing with the child whose tantrum dashed my restaurant birthday dinner.
Kiddo's eyes are equally tired and puffy from throwing said tantrum.
He is wearing reindeer pajamas in September.
The reindeer pants don't match his eyeglasses shirt.
While the awesome cupcakes are in focus, we are not.
The even blurrier bar behind us is at clearly kid-inappropriate height.
It's not just an issue of mom getting in the picture, though that's important. I rescued this photo because it's celebrating me. It is my birthday. Those are my new gorgeous earrings. Those are my delicious cupcakes atop my beautiful cake stand that too often sits on a high shelf. That is my laugh in response to my two-year-old saying "What's in the box?" in Pitt-perfect pitch. Those are my extra plates for my extra people, the loved ones who came to share the day--and the bar-of-inappropriate-kid-height--with me.
It's easy to forget to celebrate ourselves when we are so busy celebrating our children's milestones. But over the next few months, I'm making a conscious effort to celebrate me more: to reward myself for inching progress on my writing, to knit a few inches for myself instead of my family, to finally use the grown-up bathtub in my grown-up bathroom.
I hope you'll take up this challenge, too.