"C" word

It’s dirty.

I hate it.

Hate is a strong word. I know. I only use it when absolutely necessary.

And this is a necessary time.

The “C” word.

I hate it.

I feel like it’s in my daily vocabulary. I can’t go a day without thinking about it, using it, and then despising it.

Compare. (or comparison…or comparing…)

The “C” word.

{What other “C” word is there?}

Compare.

I do this all the time. You’d think as a 30 year old woman I’d be over the whole hullabaloo of comparing myself with my peers and even strangers.

But I still do it. And one thing I’ve learned is that comparing yourself is that it’s no win, a lose-lose…like a dog chasing it’s tail – it’s a lot of effort with absolutely no good outcome.

I compare myself to other mom’s. And the group of women I’m surrounded with – well – it’s tough. I have a phenomenal – and that’s putting it lightly – a phenomenal group of women whom I am lucky enough to call my friends – that Iz and I are around. These ladies are great mom’s. They balance their lives with so much poise. Even during melt downs – I look at these ladies and sometimes feel inadequate in my motherhood-ness. But, I know I’m doing the best I can with what God gave me. And God gives you what you can handle…and God thought highly of me when He gave me Iz 😉

I compare myself to other women’s shape. I know that we are all different. Not just the parts you see – but the inside parts too. I know our bodies are made different. I know our bodies burn food faster than others. I know how exercise changes people fast and sometimes changes people slow *cough* !ME! *cough*! But, yet – the “C” word haunts me here.

I compare my future with other futures. It’s not a secret that I took off time from medical school to be a stay at home mom. Now that I’ve been home almost a year with Iz – many of my medical school friends (oh how I miss them), are almost done. Soon, they’ll be doctors. Wow. What an accomplishment. And I can’t help but compare their life – albeit vastly different than mine – with mine. Jealous much?

Ok blog readers, this post isn’t an Evite to my pity party for sad Czarina.

There is a point. (I’m getting to it….I just like to ramble…one time at band camp…)

The dang “C” word is dangerous. Dirty. Does more harm than good. All comparing does is put blinders over your eyes so you fail to see the beauty and good in your current circumstance.

I’m not a great mom. But, I’m the best Momma for Iz. No other mother could be what she needs.

I’m not 5’9, 110 lbs of pure, unadulterated hotness. I’m 5’5” and 1_ _ of a creation of God that He sees as perfect. I should take care of my body because it’s a temple and because I want to be here for Craig and Isabelle for many, many more moons. The added bonus…I wear my tankini (sorry Elizabeth – I know you loathe tankinis 😀 ) with pride…and a bit of a pooch/.

I’m not going to be a doctor in 5 months like so many of my friends. But, I’ve gotten to be a Mom for 9 months. I may not have healed patients – but I’ve kissed lots of boo boos.

I’m not going to stop using the “C” word and it’s going to haunt me every now and then. But, it’s days like today that I stop and banish the “C” word from my vocabulary and am just thankful for being me.