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My shirt is almost always dirty. From various baby bodily fluids and leaking breastmilk, to ketchup kisses on my shoulder left lovingly from hugging toddlers.
I haven't been in the bathroom by myself in years. Instead, I go with an entourage of little helpers handing me towels and toilet paper. ("Mommy, can I help you wipe?")
My post-pregnant body is scarred with the battle wounds of pregnancy and breasfeeding... stretch marks, loose skin, c-section scars, and ummm.... fat.
come read the rest of my musings about the dignity of motherhood at my blog... http://mommysnark.blogspot.com. It's not so dreary!! The good and uplifting part comes at the end of the post!!
