Less is More

The upper floor of our house consists solely of the kids’ bedrooms and a bathroom. On the walls in the long hallway between their rooms are rows of hooks on which all manner of dress-up clothes hang. Hats and neckties, tutus and fairy wings, Viking helmets and plastic swords, Mardis Gras beads by the score and Halloween costumes from years gone by. Also in that long hallway is a row of full-length mirrors, hung side-by-side, so they can admire their get-ups.


At bedtime tonight, I went upstairs to find Lucy standing in the hallway checking herself out in those full-length mirrors. I stood off to the side a bit and watched her.  Cocking her head from side to side, turning a bit this way and that, looking at herself from all angles. Finally she put her hands on her hips and, keeping her eyes on her image in the mirror, asked me, “Do you think I’m skinny, perfect or fat, mom?”

I paused, quickly formulating the perfect answer in my head. A masterful blend of, “Love and accept yourself as you are,” and “everyone is beautiful in their own unique way.” Followed by, “What’s inside matters more than what’s on the outside,” and ending with a generous dose of, “Being healthy and strong is far more important than how you look.” But I never got that far.

In the 15 seconds or so I struggled to form all that into a cohesive answer to Lucy’s question, Ben came walking down the hall, heading to her room so we could all read together. As he walked between Lucy and the mirror, he patted her stomach and said, “You’re perfect,” neither looking at her nor breaking stride. Lucy gave herself one last look, shrugged her shoulders and turned to call after him, “You’re perfect too, Ben,” before following him into her room.

Is it possible I’m making this harder than it needs to be? A dear friend (and very wise woman) suggested tonight that sometimes being a mom is knowing when to say nothing at all. I’m certain tonight was one of those times.

I stood for a moment, rooted in my place in the hallway looking after both of them. I opened my mouth to speak, thought better of it, closed it again and followed them into Lucy’s room to read with them.

I’m certain questions such as these will come up again and that my stellar advice will come into play at some point. But tonight, “You’re perfect,” covered things beautifully. Tonight, less was definitely more.

Thanks, Ben.