Looks don’t matter. Love does.

Taking selfies with my son

Taking selfies with my son

We woke up late, enjoyed breakfast, snuggled on the couch and watched movies all Saturday morning. My family needed a lazy, restful day, and were finally recuperating after a long week.

Jackson rested on my lap toward the end of the movie, and we watched cheek-to-cheek. Afterward, he gave me a hug and asked me if we could take a picture together.

I hesitated. I looked awful! My hair was a mess, I hadn’t showered and I was sporting sweats. Why in the world would he want a picture with me?

I looked into his eyes ready to say no, and then told him to get my phone. He didn’t care about how I looked. He just loved me. He wanted to capture this special moment together.

Looks don’t matter. Love does.

When Jackson grows up, he’s not going to look back and remember my frumpy style or my body shape, he’s going to think about how he was loved. It won’t be about how much I had it all together, how clean the house was or how much money I earned a year. He will remember us laughing together, snuggling, spending time with each other and how dearly I loved him.

So, we took those pictures. We giggled and made funny faces. We hugged.

We loved.

We sure can be silly! :)

We sure can be silly! 🙂

Hand in hand

Lauren and I walk hand in hand.

Lauren and I walk hand in hand.

Turning to come back down the lane, the phone I was using to track my walk buzzed. I could roughly see the outline of my husband and daughter in the distance, and I knew the reason for the phone call. I had a little girl desperate to join me.

Sure enough, Lauren came running to meet me as I neared the house, her smile as wide as her outstretched arms. She quick grabbed my hand, and we kept walking back up the lane.

Our pace was much slower than my first lap. Not as many calories were burned.

But, I held my daughter’s hand for another 20 minutes. We talked and laughed and even chased the dogs for a while. It was just us girls.

We’ve walked together in the early mornings twice this week.

Rather than being frustrated my exercise plans have been hijacked, I am grateful for the time with my daughter. She is so thrilled to be with me, walking by my side. Her constant chatter is worth cherishing, and her little hand grasping mine a treasure.

A faster pace will come in time. My little girl’s hand, and heart, needs to be held now.