He Tells Me I’m Pretty

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couple

In the morning, when I don’t have any makeup on and I am scared to look at my own reflection in the mirror.

When I have changed my outfit for the third time before a date night, frustrated because none of my “going out” pants fit the way they did before the babies came.

When I’ve got my face inches from the mirror, staring intently at the red mole hill forming on the side of my face. 

In a text when I’m slamming on my slow computer and he’s seated across the room watching the Lakers’ game.

During the dead of winter, when I’m feeling whiter and more bloated than the Marshmallow Man on Ghostbusters.

When I’m about to cry at the end of a stressful day, having lost a majority of battles against our willful two-year-old.

When I’ve just burned dinner and feel like running to our room with a bottle of wine.

When I have chocolate around my mouth and am six cookies deep into a fresh batch of salted chocolate chunk cookies.

Motherhood is amazing, but it sure can beat you down. I know I don’t look pretty during these times, but when he tells me I’m pretty, it makes everything else irrelevant.

Thanks to you, my dear husband, and to all the amazing men out there who love us unconditionally and build us back up when we are feeling everything but pretty.

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Andi
Born and raised in the Buckeye state, my husband and I moved to Cincinnati a few years ago by way of Chicago so we could be a little closer to family. We love this little big city, particularly when the trees start to bloom, fireflies are flickering and Riverbend is rockin'. We have two amazing little toddlers who continually entertain us with jokes and great dance moves and three chickens. I write about food, lifestyle and parenting at my blog www.andicurry.com.

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