Hang up that Shrug!

I am guilty. I project my worries, anxieties, fears, and concerns onto my children. Now by this I am not talking about major adult issues. I don’t involve them in situations that are not intended for them. By this I mean I say things without thinking of how it may sound to them. Even though I am 90% of the time being sarcastic there is an undertone of real worry in my statements.

An example of this. I wanted to wear a summer maxi dress, it’s flippin’ 100 degrees outside. And I didn’t want to put on that blessed shrug to cover my arms. My arms that have definitely been slacking in the workout department. The arms that have quite a bit of jiggle to them and are pretty pale. Not that I am tan, EVER, but my upper arms haven’t seen the sun in years! {because of those shrugs!!} And on top of the jiggle and paleness I also suffer from keratosis pilaris. So I have all those tiny red bumps all over the back of my arms. {bluk} After years and years of hiding, exfoliating, covering, and moisturizing they are still there and not going away! And my daughter inherited this as well. So I do consciously try not to make comments about how I HATE my arms because of the bumps, because I don’t want her to hate her arms. So putting on this dress and looking over at the shrug I asked my kids if it would be ok to wear the dress with out the sweater. They both looked at me like I had 3 heads and nodded yes. I then felt the need to explain that I just wanted to make sure because I felt like my arms are too fat to wear sleeveless clothing. Ashlyn shook her head, and said that was the silliest thing she had ever heard. And she was serious. That was silly to her.

I stood there and thought about how it probably did sound silly to a child. And then I realized it should sound silly to an adult as well. But it didn’t. I was truly concerned that my arms were too fat to wear a sleeveless dress in 100 degree weather. Then I went to get the cover for my arms, and looked at it. There was only about 3 inches of the sleeve from the shoulder seam to the end of the arm seam. What on earth was that going to make a difference!?! Three inches isn’t enough to cover these bad boys! And if I thought I was fooling anyone into thinking I had beautiful, buff tan arms, then I was SILLY! So I just laughed and hung that shrug back up!

These arms may be jiggly, white, bumpy, and fat but they are amazing arms that God has blessed me with. They have held babies, carried toddlers, wiped away tears, and picked up crying kids. They have given me the ability to carry infant seats with babies, carry in groceries for my family, brush my daughter’s hair, cook dinner, cheer on Griffin during soccer games, and hug my family. Maybe my arms aren’t worth buying tickets to the gun show for, but they are mine and they are beautiful. So from now on when you see me, another woman, or yourself out there with out sleeves on those arms, instead of looking at the imperfections, look at  the blessings those arms are capable of.


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