Mother and daughter reach milestones of womanhood - separately, yet together.

February 2010
 
Recently, I had, what my husband calls, my 40,000 mile check-up. By this, I mean I had surgery to “fix” what years of moving in our first years of marriage, count them - eight, and the damages done from having children, count them – two, had done to little ole’ me. I was amazed at how many of my friends assumed, perhaps naturally so, that the surgery was elective and involved boob jobs and liposuction! As the surgery began to approach, and after many inquisitions as to what exactly I was having done, I actually began to think that I might should be getting some “work” done! Sister to sister... I had no idea just how much I could have done! The revelation was daunting and enlightening! 

All my life I have been well-endowed, and that, coupled with nursing both babies, the last of which for two years, has left “the sisters” a little less than perky werky. I must say that on shopping days when I have to buy an XL to accommodate the top, when by all other accounts I should be in an XS, the thought of reduction and lift sounds amazing...even quite dreamy. I always seem a little hesitant though to alter what “God made.” I have many mothers in my client base who have had that kind of work done and have seen first hand the before’s and after’s with great successes. It just doesn’t quite make sense to me to change it, though given that in a few years, a change may be good. I guess I see it as a vain attempt to stop time...or should I say, send the wrong message to my daughter.

If I had not had any reservations about such surgery, I would have been stopped dead in my tracks to schedule it by the conversations that began to take place between me and my daughter over the last few months. I have always discouraged the word “diet” in my home and have gone so far as to remove the one set of scales we had in the master bathroom after I found Victoria Ann weighing herself every morning at the age of ten. “Eating healthy” and “making good choices” have been the way I as a mother tried to parent in a world where not being skinny is considered somehow sub-standard. I remember people calling her “fat” when she was a baby, which really was insane since she was, after all..a baby! And then, I debated, and I mean really debated about “Barbie.” The message she sends is not a real one, not with the tiny waist and the perfect boobies and those skinny damn long legs! But, alas, as all little girls do, my daughter eventually talked me into buying her a Barbie and somehow even then I felt like I had betrayed her as a mother. I don’t really think women come like that...and why in the name of God do we allow our little girls to form an opinion of what their bodies should be like with this as a model? I had almost gotten over it...

Last fall, Victoria Ann hit puberty, and all the insecurities of what can only be described as the most hideous stage of maturation came flooding. She began to wonder if she would have large thighs like her auntie...would she have a red blotchy pimple covered face and God forbid, would she end up with boobies like her mother?! To all of this I replied as calmly as I could and very much like I did when she was six and started crying in ballet because her thighs were larger than the itty bitty classmate standing beside her each week. You have to be comfortable in your own skin. Everyone is beautiful in their own way and lastly, and most importantly....as Nana used to say, “Pretty is as pretty does!”

We sat together and talked much more than usual over the Thanksgiving break, she increasingly wanting, and even demanding, more mommy time than ever since she was dependent on me for nursing as a baby. I reconnected with her over long talks and bubble baths and realized that deep down, after the initial whining of a day gone “Oh so terrible,” she is a confident and well rounded child.

One afternoon, and this is the kicker, we were tearing out “important” stuff from magazines. I like to build files of recipes and good ideas and even articles that at some point will be the inspiration for my column. As we were together tearing out the good stuff, she stopped and asked, “Why are they all so skinny, mama?” You know what I said? Without hesitation I said, “Because the society in which we live in chooses to display our clothes on women who are forced to starve themselves and or do drugs. No one should be that skinny and I do not think they are pretty at all!” Maybe a little harsh, but it got her to giggle. I could see the wheels turning, and with that comment, she stopped thinking it was natural to be that thin.

So, after getting prepped for my 40,000 mile check-up, which was a very boring but quite necessary bladder tact from delivering two babies, and a hernia repair that took four years to be diagnosed, I came to realize that even though I might like having “a little work done,” my husband was adamantly against anything being altered above the necessary. Ahh, to look like Barbie....or to not look like Barbie, now that’s a loaded question! After spending some quality time with my only daughter, who is rapidly becoming a woman, I came to realize the obvious answer. Should I have opted to get a new me, I would have virtually discounted all that I had been teaching to her as a mother. No, I don’t like the fact that I wear an XL top and a XS bottom, but the good Lord made me this way. I am so over it! I am perfectly happy in my own skin, and I hope that message goes a long way to facilitate a healthy self esteem in my best girl ever!

Take Care of YOU!!!