I am just about to embark on my first ever turkey cooking adventure. My mom and her husband are coming for dinner today.
(The big family dinners are all on weekends when more people can come, so I'm hosting this tiny one today.)
I'm not nervous or anxious about this. If you know me, this is a big deal.
It's a testament to my mother--that she gives acceptance and not judgment. I've never felt like she wanted me to look a certain way, dress a certain way, be a certain way. She has always supported me and loved me and given no indication that she feels anything other than acceptance.
I don't feel rushed this morning. I know that it's okay if I wear my hair in a bun. It's okay if I have holes in the knees of my jeans. It's okay if I burn the food. If the turkey is undercooked--we'll laugh and toss it back in the oven. I'm not even planning on doing any more cleaning than is already done. It doesn't matter if my bathroom mirror is spotty and smudged.
It doesn't matter if I'm spotty or smudged. My mama loves me and I feel fine.