So, this morning began as any normal weekday morning. (Well, except for my teething infant who had whined most of the night and gotten himself wedged in the crib bumpers numerous times resulting in me having to go "save" him...)
Hubby was up at 5:30. I was up at six, and then at six thirty I got the kids up. We had breakfast, said goodbye to Hubby and I picked out my son's clothes. Thing One (who will be Ten next month) paused on the stairs to her room and looked at me:
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Why won't you pick out clothes for me? You do it for the boys."
*stunned silence*
"Well...because you always hate what I pick out."
"If I don't whine will you pick them out?"
"Um...okay."
Perplexed, I went up to The Sanctuary and looked at her meticulously clean closet packed with clothes. I picked out a brown sweater, jeans and brown boots. She was actually thrilled.
So, she puts on the jeans and I say, "Wait, those are too light. Wear these, they are a darker wash." She obediently puts them on, walks over to her mirror and turns around, and IT ACTUALLY COMES OUT OF HER NINE-YEAR OLD MOUTH:
"Mom, do these jeans make my butt look fat?"
I looked at her and realized she was probably copying what she'd seen her other girlfriends say, because she knows her butt is tiny (but she doesn't know I would commit multiple murders to have a butt as cute) and I simply said, reassuringly:
"You look just fine in those jeans, and you don't need to worry about your butt."
But as I left The Sanctuary, I had to shake my head in sorrow a little. She's NINE, for Cripe's Sake. And it's already starting. What will she be like when she's THIRTEEN? Or Seventeen? I need to make sure she feels loved and secure with herself, because I don't need some vain, flaky clotheshorse for a daughter. I want her to be comfortable in her own skin. Even though that is mathematically impossible during the teen years, I want to at least help her as much as I can. Thank heaven she is skinny. Otherwise I would be seriously worried for her.
Then again, I was skinny my whole life, and after four babies, the Metabolism Fairy has deserted me completely. So who knows. But she is in sports, and she knows how to eat right.
I am just nervous because I have eight more years of fielding those questions...
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2 comments:
Oh boy.
I think EVERY woman worries if her butt looks fat in those jeans. I think every woman worries if her hips look bad in that skirt. I think it's just part of being a woman. And even though she feels loved and secure in her own skin, she will still have moments where she wonders if she looks fat in that outfit. (But she'll also have the moments where she knows she's one Hot Mamma.) You know what I'm saying?
Man I'm so glad I have a boy! LOL
I never questioned it. My butt is fat therefore it looks fat in jeans, and anything else. However I'm fond of my ba-donk-a-donk, but sometimes I wish there was just a wee less "donk". :) And at least you HAD a visit with the metabo-fairy, she took one look at me as a baby and handed me off to her cousin, the "lethargy fairy". Ugh.
-sis
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