The Beautiful Mom Bod

Beautiful.

That is one word us moms don't hear too often.  I've got mom hips, a little jiggle to the thighs and leftover gut from my last baby.  I wouldn't say I am fat.  I would say that what I do have has been repositioned... unfavorably.  And I don't think I am alone.

With the rare exception of women like Heidi Klum, Angelina Jolie and the oh so stinking fabulous Kate Middleton, most of us moms have re-proportioned bodies.  Whatever beautiful we had pre-baby has now shifted.  We've got beauty baggies under our eyes, glamour age spots, and rocking curves.  Now, I am not saying that having babies is a bad thing.  However, I am saying that--in general--the act of having children is rough on a person's body.

I have come to accept this.  What else can a gal do when the shift has become permanent?  I run, I yoga and trot after my dog.  I keep fit, eat right and cross my fingers that the anti-oxidant fruit of the day I ate is doing a magical pep talk with my innards.

And I started a martial arts class.

Yep.  I hit and kick.  It's surprising how utterly taxing mixed martial arts is on the body.  I discovered muscle in places I had no idea I had muscle (like WHY the heck my boobs were sore was baffling!!!  I mean, who knew, right?  I thought they were just sagging because gravity is one mean dude.).   And yet, besides the painful discovery of my creaking joins and mysteriously appearing muscles, I found my beauty.

Sort of.

Disclaimer: I am thirty four, have two kids and have been married thirteen and a half years... happily so on all counts.

On to the rest of the story.  Ahem...  Every time I pulled off a good punch or wonderfully executed kick, Mr. Sensei would compliment me with a hearty "Good job!" and "Beautiful!"

You read that right.

My kick was "Beautiful."

Which made me want to kick freaking awesome again and again.  Why?  I don't think I have heard the word beautiful and my physique spoken together in the same sentence favorably in, oh gees... ages!!!  Like I said, I'm okay with the change in my body.  I am also okay with feeling like a million bucks even if that means kicking the bleep out of a squashy target.

Most of my body may have slipped a little south over the years, but for one hour a day, twice a week I feel like a super model.

A really short, butt kicking, tired and stressed-out mom... super model.