Let me set the scene for you a bit, shall I? I was in the bathroom bathing my youngest kiddo when I heard my oldest say “Hm, that’s a good picture!” I turned around to see him with my phone taking pictures of…. my rear-end. Yes, folks, that is ACTUALLY my bottom. I quickly asked him to put my phone away. I mean, it’s my hiney. In a bathroom… a bathroom that I hadn’t cleaned recently, by the way.
A few moments after my shock wore away, I realized that he had said it was a GOOD picture and I started to feel awful. I felt like I had quashed my son’s emotions and creativity. Is this the picture that defines me? No, of course not…. but this is a view my son sees on occasion. This is a snapshot in time of his life. And what’s the point of a picture except to remember the snapshots we encounter? I don’t know that my son specifically wanted to remember my buttocks, perhaps he just wants to remember me or remember how I took care of them. Instead of thinking “MY GOSH that badonkadonk is ginormous” I can take a step back and think, “That badonkadonk is a part of me and my body. The body that CAN bend to bathe my son and the body that CAN run at the park or read to my kids at night.” And how thankful I am for that body.