I email with my sister almost everyday. Most days we exchange at least 4 to 6 little messages. Topics vary daily: make-up tips, clothing ensembles, children's escapades, stupid people we know, what's for supper, men, money, movies. We discuss it all, a few sentences at a time.
One day last week after emailing about how busy we both were, my sister asked "Ever imagine having more time and less kids?" My response was "Yes, but would I still be fabulous?"
I don't think of myself as SuperMom, but most days I'm pretty fabulous. I'm healthy, smart, attractive, fit and happy. I wake up everyday feeling on-top-of-the-world. I'm living my dream. And I have hundreds more dreams that I will likely get to accomplish some day. My optimism abounds. I love life. I love my life. I'm fabulous.
Could I be fabulous without my three little daughters, who are the most interesting people I've ever met? Could I be fabulous without their constant chatter and mess-making and their endless rivers of creativity? Doesn't at least some of my fabulous-ness come from making their meals and brushing their ponytails and folding their clothes and kissing their wounds?
What would I do with more time? I'd spend a lot more money, that's for sure.
There is no room for humility when you are fabulous. It's not going to benefit my children for me to act like I don't think I take excellent care of them. If I think I'm not a great mom, then how do I summon the courage to do better? Being fabulous gives me the desire to be even more fabulous. Becoming even more fabulous is part of being fabulous. Like everytime I bite my tongue instead of complaining about the mess or the laundry or the spilled soymilk, I am upping my fabulous-ness quotient.
Planting seeds ups my fabulous-ness.
Playing Playmobil ups my fabulous-ness.
Making Dutch meatball soup ups my fabulous-ness.
Greeting Partner-Guy with a huge smile at 5pm ups my fabulous-ness.
Being fabulous is a state of mind. My mind turned fabulous after Holly was born, and it got even better when I turned a corner in my relationship with Partner-Guy a year later, when I decided I could really trust him. Being fabulous requires a pretty high dose of self-esteem, but it also requires a good supporting cast, of which I have the best.
My sister is fabulous too. She's got all the elements. Being fabulous is about being authentic. Having the world by the tail. Knowing when to fly by the seat of your pants. Being able to wing it. And then getting up tomorrow and winging it all over again, only better.
I could never be this fabulous with more time and less kids.
(By the way, Olga, if you're reading this, you're fabulous too.)