Don't Let The Face Pubes Define You:

This week, much like most weeks was a jumble of 50+ work week along with 30+ school week for my poor, tired, sad-exhausted-striving to survive-Jesus help this exasperated man not become a zombie skeletor -asaurus of a man.... please Jesus, keep his hair intact (did i just say that? Hair starts to thin, I'm told, when a man begins to stress too much) Ahem, please help him not totally lose his mind while trying to hold it all together....A girl can pray though right? We can pray for full heads of hair!) I digress. So here we are, knee deep into the half way mark of this semester and 14 months of school (please someone shoot me) ahead of us until his masters degree will be complete! Hallelujah! 

Last week the manager of a project that he was working on told him that because of "safety protocol" he needed to cut his extra sexy beard because if they needed to use an oxygen mask, the mask wouldn't properly suction to his face, certainly, death would come knocking on his door... the fact of the mater is that no matter what, his safety is numero ono, but srsly, he was at the mine for like two full hours-so he's gunna cut almost TWO years worth of perfectly manicured, sexalicious man-face candyness? Like, Um, who did they think they were messing with. I was bout's to call that mo' fo up and let him know whose boss. Luckily for his sake, I spared him the humiliation & embarrassment he would have felt after knowing who my hot husband was. (GQ husband of the year). What'evs. 

The point is people, THE BEARD DOESN'T DEFINE YOU! We cut it off. We cut it off and the whole while, I was in the back ground doin' the "Z" snap talking all sorts of crap about how the haters can't hold us down...Shoot.... 

I got all ghetto about it. 

I did.

But for-real'z. 

Cutting that beard off hurt.

Not in a physical way, but in an ego way.

In the moment we were all flippin' off "the man" and telling the guy's upstairs to suck our bung holes, but then when all of the nasty chin pubes were all swept up and dumped into their respective toilet bowls, we were sad. 

Sad like when a mom realizes that her honeymoon stomach is a distant memory (even if she gets back to pre prego weight, that tight ass stomach ain't what it used to be honey bear. It just ain't. Lets be real. You can't quite bounce a quarter off of those abs like you once did.... Jillian Michael's can't even help that flabby skin. Yeah, I went there.) 

Before it was all gone, he shaved it into a Hulk Kogan stash. He joked that he'd show up at work looking like the Hulkster but decided to be a gentleman about it all. I dared him to. He was much more polite about the whole situation than I might have been. He's the sweet, I'm the sour. I would have put up a fight. That's my down fall. I would have gotten fired over it like a damn idiot. Anyway. 

As we snuggled in bed that night and I stroked his smooth baby like cheek for the first time in a very long time, I realized how different he looked to me. Not different bad, but different-weird. You know? His shiny cheeks were cute though. The man could wear a paper bag with eye holes (and a big mouth hole so we could make out,) and he'd STILL look hot. His bare face made him realized how different he felt. He said he felt like he was twelve years old, but not in a good way. He felt insecure. He didn't feel like himself. He didnt' feel like a grown up. His manhood, in some form, had been stripped away. 

If you've ever not felt like yourself, especially ESPECIALLY after shooting a baby out of your cooka, raise your hand! I can completely understand where he's coming from here.

It's like when you get a bad hair cut or your first Brazilian. You think it's going to be super cute, but you end up feeling weird about it. You introduce yourself to Sheila, the cute, young girl who smiles like everything is normal and fun until you lay back and spread your shaky legs, feel that hot wax, and in that moment, you're completely vulnerable. The fate of your lady parts are in Sheila's hands. You scream and curse profanities when Sheila rips that hair off. And this is what guy's are into?! Everything looks red and all wrinkled and bald and not cute but it's supposed to be cute so you feel confused about it... then a few days later you're all itchy and uncomfortable and wonder why people pay 80$ for what you just paid 80$ for!? Yeah, it's like that.

So back to the face pubes.

Back to the after baby flab.

IT DOESN'T DEFINE YOU. Or me. Or he.

We put so much weight on the outward things-making them so important and yet the inward parts of us, are left neglected because we've made the outward more important than the inward.... If I spent as much time asking the Lord to change me and teach me as I do figuring out what outfit to wear so that another woman (don't lie ladies. We dress for each other, not for guys!) would complement me and say I looked cute, I'd be in a much happier place.

We spent the last week or so talking about who God says we are in light of what the world says makes us beautiful, sexy, handsome, smart, successful etc. My confidence does not hinge on whether I do or do not have 15ish pounds to lose or whether this person thinks I'm a good mother/photographer/friend. My confidence comes from Jesus. It comes from spending time with him. Allowing him to mold my character, build my self esteem and make me feel loved, beautiful, worthy, talented, & gifted.

Being depressed over shaving off his beard or me feeling like a fat-fatty is only a symptom of something greater going on inside. We've both been in this nasty rut lately where we feel unmotivated and uninspired, but where does this self pity, depression & apathy come from? Certainly not from God! I will add that having a new baby and sometimes little help + a husband who isn't home a lot doesn't always make me feel super inspired every day all day....

But It's amazing how quickly we convince ourselves that we're worthless or not good enough. It's incredible how easily another person's opinion can knock us down. How many times have you read a Friend's status update and felt like your life sucked in comparison to theirs? How man times have you sat on Pinterest wasting time looking at all of the yummy meals you could make or pretty clothes you could buy but don't because of this or that and then end up feeling bad about yourself in the process?

So my pledge is this: to spend more time seeking out what the Lord says about me rather than spending time caring what others think of me/being depressed/not loving ME! I will spend more time with Jesus than with Pinterest or Facebook. I'm going to decide who I want to be and BE that! After the holiday's have come and gone, I'll be pulling back a bit and figuring out what I want my photography business to look like. I've started my turbo fire (that turbo fire is no joke. It's more challenging than training for any marathon ever was. But I will get there! I will! The worst part is taking the "before" photos and writing down measurements. It's no fun.)

Oh, and Dustin is growing the face pubes out....
       What girl doesn't love a man with scruff??