Your Body is Beautiful
Kids always tell the truth. My four-year old, Brooklynn, just grabbed my hand and said: "Your hands look like a grandma's." I would love to explain to her that it's because I live in a high desert and no matter how much lotion I put on, they are dry and cracking. And I could also mention that I am constantly washing my hands because "somebody" still hasn't learned to go poopy in the potty. Instead, I simply agreed.
This followed last week's comment while we were swimming. I was wearing my new swimsuit, actually feeling pretty good about myself, when my six-year old, Jillian, pointed to my thighs and asked: "Why is that so bumpy?" She of course was referring to my less-than-perfect, post-giving birth and going from huge-to-normal and huge-to-normal-again legs. I wasn't feeling "so good about myself" any longer and found myself saying the exact thing my mom used to say to us when we poked her belly and said it was soft like a pillow: "Well, they are so bumpy because of having you two." I always thought my mom was saying that as an excuse and even if she was, I'm still using it.
When I told my mom the story, she surprised me. She told me not to do what she did for so many years. "Don't worry about how your body looks after having kids. You'll turn around and realize you spent 40 years concerned about it. What a waste."
This reminds me of an experience I once had with my dad. I was five-years old and it was a big deal when my dad wanted to spend time with me. We went to a beach on a hot summer day and as we sat on the big beach towel, he pointed to women walking by. "Look," he said as a larger woman walked in front of us. "She is beautiful with all her curves." Another woman walked by, this time short and stauky, and he said, "See how pretty she is." This continued as 10-15 women of all shapes and sizes strolled by. Even at such a young age, I got what he was trying to teach me. Your body is beautiful.
Brooklynn recently came down with severe modesty. She had to be in a bathroom with the door completely shut and locked before she'd let me get her dressed. She wouldn't even get dressed if the cat was around. I'd simply say to her each time she forced the door shut: "Your body is beautiful." A few days later, she allowed me to get her dressed in front of her sister. She looked up and said to Jillian: "My body is beautiful - OK?"
Brooklynn is no longer scared of getting dressed. In fact, on that day at the swimming center when I wasn't feeling so well after my six-year old's comment about my thighs, it was Brooklynn who spoke up and said: "Mommy, I think your body is beautiful."
This followed last week's comment while we were swimming. I was wearing my new swimsuit, actually feeling pretty good about myself, when my six-year old, Jillian, pointed to my thighs and asked: "Why is that so bumpy?" She of course was referring to my less-than-perfect, post-giving birth and going from huge-to-normal and huge-to-normal-again legs. I wasn't feeling "so good about myself" any longer and found myself saying the exact thing my mom used to say to us when we poked her belly and said it was soft like a pillow: "Well, they are so bumpy because of having you two." I always thought my mom was saying that as an excuse and even if she was, I'm still using it.
When I told my mom the story, she surprised me. She told me not to do what she did for so many years. "Don't worry about how your body looks after having kids. You'll turn around and realize you spent 40 years concerned about it. What a waste."
This reminds me of an experience I once had with my dad. I was five-years old and it was a big deal when my dad wanted to spend time with me. We went to a beach on a hot summer day and as we sat on the big beach towel, he pointed to women walking by. "Look," he said as a larger woman walked in front of us. "She is beautiful with all her curves." Another woman walked by, this time short and stauky, and he said, "See how pretty she is." This continued as 10-15 women of all shapes and sizes strolled by. Even at such a young age, I got what he was trying to teach me. Your body is beautiful.
Brooklynn recently came down with severe modesty. She had to be in a bathroom with the door completely shut and locked before she'd let me get her dressed. She wouldn't even get dressed if the cat was around. I'd simply say to her each time she forced the door shut: "Your body is beautiful." A few days later, she allowed me to get her dressed in front of her sister. She looked up and said to Jillian: "My body is beautiful - OK?"
Brooklynn is no longer scared of getting dressed. In fact, on that day at the swimming center when I wasn't feeling so well after my six-year old's comment about my thighs, it was Brooklynn who spoke up and said: "Mommy, I think your body is beautiful."
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