Written by Amanda Coop
Beauty – they say it’s in the eye of the beholder.
Just ask Mr 6, whose nickname for me is – and I don’t know why I’m admitting this publicly – Chub Tum.
“Hi Chub Tum,” he said to me one day as he snuggled up and patted my tummy affectionately.
Before you assume anything about why he’s nicknaming and patting my tummy, I’d just like to make it clear that I’m not pregnant, unless you can count the food baby that’s in about its 20th trimester.
Miss 10 glared at him. “Don’t call her that,” she said. Turning to me she said: “You’re not chubby, Mum, don’t listen to him,” before throwing him another shady look.
“That’s a really mean thing to say to Mum, you know?” she asked him.
“But I’m not being mean,” he protested. “I love her chubby tummy.”
Taking my face in his hands and ruffling my cheeks the way he does with the dog, he said “the chubby ones are always the cutest, oh yes they are.”
Despite the fact I was now being treated like the family pet, I could see he was being sincere.
Although I loved that kind little Miss 10 jumped straight to my defense, it didn’t feel needed.
For whatever reason (but most likely overeating and laziness) I’ve never been able to get rid of the spare floatie ring that lives around my waist since Mr 6’s birth, which was – as I imagine you’ve figured out based on the name – more than six years ago.
He heard me one day discussing how I’d love to slim down and regain some of the energy middle age and motherhood seem to have sapped from me.
“What?!” he exclaimed. “But I love your tummy!”
He came to me and cuddled up on my lap, patting my stomach.
“But wouldn’t you love it if Mum had a bit more energy to play with you?”
“No. I love you how you are, because you’re my mumma,” he said, emphasizing the last word.
I wouldn’t say the conversation made me feel exactly beautiful, but it did remind me that beauty is, in fact, in the eye of the beholder.
I do hope he comes up with something a little more diplomatic for any future girlfriend, but, for now, I guess Chub Tum will do.