I used to have skinny arms. They weren’t super muscular or ripped, but they were nice. The kind of arms that easily go unnoticed. Now my arms, along with various other parts of my body, are carrying a lot of extra fluff. And my former-skinny self has been doing a lot of beating up on my post-baby, opposite-of-beach-body, body. So much so that when I look at picture of myself, like the one below, the first thing I notice is my fat arms. Not the precious sleeping boy I’m holding. Or the beautiful ocean in the distance. But my big fat white arms. And that is a tragedy. I do not want to pass these insecurities onto my child. I want him to be healthy, both physically and mentally, and know that he is loved despite the flaws he may see in himself. So now I am working on seeing past my flabby imperfections and focus on the things that are really important because I want to be a better, more confident, version of myself for him. And that’s just one of the ways he has changed me for good.