Momma, you're beautiful

At the most random moments during the day, Jack will look over at me and say, "Momma, you're beautiful." I catch myself looking in the mirror (all too often I've thrown on my gray hole filled sweatshirt that I love and refuse to throw out but acknowledge that I can only wear in private. My hair looks like a two year old has snuggled it and whatever makeup I remember putting on that morning has long since faded) and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes and saying yeah, Jack, I'm beautiful, sarcastically. But then I remember being a little girl and knowing my mom was the most beautiful mom ever, and I quickly remember that he is only two and as fast as he is growing up, I am still so much his world. I stop myself from rolling my eyes, and feeling a bit more beautiful then I was the moment before, I hug him and tell him how much I love him instead.