I am raising two girls.
I am also raising a boy, but he is less complicated; less scary. My boy may be physically draining, and a bit of a nihilist, and a little too much the class clown at school, but that is the easy stuff.
I don’t have to worry about raising him to love his body, to think he is beautiful, to really know it deep down to his core. Josh doesn’t change his clothing 14 times a day. Josh doesn’t tell me that he absolutely needs a cashmere sweater or he will die. Josh doesn’t count how many times he wore those jeans this month. Josh isn’t anti-waistband. Most likely, Josh won’t go through the pudgy adolescence that his mother went through. Most likely, Josh won’t look at his body and see his flaws. He won’t see chubby thighs and a flabby belly.
But the girls? The girls are different. The girls are me. And I know we have a tough road ahead of us.
But until we get there,
I am going to enjoy the moments
when my girl goes to watch her sister swim
in her giant dress-up skirt
and she doesn’t even notice
for one single second
that people are looking, gawking, laughing, smiling.
Because it won’t always be this way.
Ali Martell, is the managing editor of Canada’s Premier Parenting Site, The Yummy Mummy Club. She is also a writer, an ellipticizer, a mother, a wife, a lion-tamer, a diet coke quitter, a juggler, a getter-of-drinks. She is Canada’s Emma Pillsbury and her three children tell her that she is a DOF (destroyer of fun). She is learning to use her camera better and love her thighs more. You can read more from Ali on her blog, Cheaper Than Therapy.