"You're the most beautiful mommy," he said and my breath caught in my throat because I wanted to say no, I'm not beautiful, I'm exhausted and smelly and wobbly where I used to be firm and my hair is falling out and I haven't had my eyebrow waxed into two distinct eyebrows in months and none of my clothes fit and my boobs leak breastmilk and my eyes leak tears on a daily if not hourly basis and did I mention I'm tired? I'm so tired.
But I didn't say any of those things. I swallowed my words and smiled at him.
"You're the most beautiful mommy because your love shines like Iron Man's unibeam."
And he's right.