I wish I could go back and comfort young Mom and young me. Tell them how beautiful they were. Find a lovely feature they could focus on and be happy with. Play them some Christina Aguilera and some Pink. Nurture whatever was missing in their little hearts that prevented them from seeing the beauty everyone else saw. But because I can't, I have to just decide to believe it now.
I just bought a brand new digital bathroom scale, so naturally I step on it every time I'm anywhere near the bathroom in order to watch my weight fluctuate. A mammoth salad for lunch? I'm up two pounds! A pleasant ramble with the Yorkie-poo? They've gone! Dinner at my sister's house? They're back! But by tomorrow morning, they'll probably be gone again. Or not.