For the past week I have had a burgeoning head cold. Yesterday it burgeoned. But regardless of how I was feeling, and in spite of the Giant Zit in the middle of my forehead I had to go out...
I had atleast a dozen conversations last night at Jonathan's grade five science fair, where people told me how good I looked. Now I am not looking for an outpouring of compliments and sympathy when I say that I know for an absolute fact that I did not look good last night. There have been times, and even recently, where I have looked fabulous; After a run when I look in the mirror at my cheeks all rosy with health, or the rare occassion when I'm all dressed up for an evening out. More often I am looking and feeling good on luxuriously lazy days spent comfortable in jeans and a tshirt, feeling invigorated by motherhood and friendship.
But last night I know with absolute certainty that I looked like crap. So why did all these people feel compelled to tell me how good I looked? Was it merely words to fill an otherwise uncomfortable silence, or did they really mean something else? I like to think that they are mostly referring to Elijah. Sporting a baby can be something akin to a new outfit. No matter how bad you feel, people don't really notice you. They notice the new baby tucked snugly into your arms like a prada purse. And I absolutely agree. Elijah looked fabulous last night.
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