Image and Self-Acceptance

"Michelle, why is your tummy so big?" was the query posed yesterday by a very sweet 5 year old neighbor girl. My calm response was muddled and mentioned something about just having a baby two months ago and it taking time for your belly to shrink again, or something like that. I acted like it was no big deal, but it hit a spot I'm a little sensitive about at the moment (clearly - since I haven't stopped thinking about it).

There is a major push lately to be sure we instill healthy body images in our daughters so they don't fall prey to self-depreciating behaviors as a result of media representations (along with other variables). So many of us are emphasizing health, accomplishment, and internal pride. We tell them they are beautiful on the inside, that bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and that beauty is measured in how we treat other people or our personality, kindness, compassion, goals, achievements, etc.

I for one think I do a pretty good job of this.

When my oldest daughter wanted to only drink water until she was full because of food having "sugar" and "calories" we decided to focus on the nutrients that different foods contain. Our dinner conversations became focused on how proteins help build our muscles, carbohydrates provide us with sustained energy, and vegetables give us a host of nutrients to keep our bodies working right. We regularly googled food items to learn about their benefits and took a whole-self approach to nutrition, focusing on keeping both our body and mind healthy. She knows she has to take two bites of everything even if she hates it, and will often focus on nutritional benefit in order to talk herself through a taste she finds unappealing.

We encourage exercise so the kids will have energy and clarity of mind. When the early hormonal mood swings hit, I help her cope by getting outside and doing something active, telling her that exercise and sunshine can help us when we are feeling sad or angry. I tell her that I love the person she is on the inside, emphasize caring about who she is rather than how she appears, and I try to put minimal emphasis on her appearance. We live in a crazy hippie-town, so that is actually rather easy, and I don't stop there. When she is kind to others, I compliment her behavior. When she works hard on a school assignment I acknowledge the effort she has put in. When she stays up past her bedtime playing on the iPhone, she loses privileges and we talk about why sleep is necessary for the body (an interesting topic since sleep physiologists really aren't sure why). In short, we try very hard to help our kids learn to be quality people, the same way so many other families do.

I also try to model healthy behavior by eating minimal junk food, making sure I exercise (when the baby lets me), and telling her how awesome my imperfect body is because it let me birth two remarkable babies. I tell her that I like the little pooch that remains after childbirth because it reminds me that I did something important, and I try to care more about being clean and tidy than fitting a certain physical mold.

But I'm not sure that deep down I really believe all of it. 

Yes, birthing my babies was remarkable and indescribably important. Yes, being healthy and feeling good about the person you are inside is hugely important. Yes, I'm grateful for the many, many awesome things my body does and is capable of, but I still hate that I don't look the same.

There are times when I am spewing forth the "love yourself the way you are" mumbo jumbo that I find myself caught in the middle of an argument between my head and my heart. My head KNOWS that my value is not in my appearance, but my heart still longs to feel thin, beautiful, and non-frumpy. I'm telling my daughter what I want her to believe... what I want for ME to believe, but I'm just not sure I'm there yet.

It is a struggle every day to get dressed and realize that the maternity pants don't fit (thank goodness!), but neither does anything else. None of the shirts I own work with my nursing boobs, yoga pants are comfortable but hug all the wrong places, earrings get yanked on by little hands, and make-up and hair are lucky to get done once a week. Part of it is simply the phase of life I am in with an infant at home, but the way it impacts me emotionally is sometimes a surprise.

Regardless of knowing that my worth is in lasting areas, I still want to feel pretty. Not a celebrity or Victoria's Secret type of pretty, but pretty for me. I like the way my face looks when I've been running regularly and it has thinned up a bit, or the way a flattering pair of jeans can inspire confidence. Not to mention the way my husband looks at me when I take the time to get all gussied up for something and the confidence I easily exude when something fits me just right and highlights my personal physical strengths.

I want to teach my daughter to be immune to excessive emphasis on personal image, but I still care a great deal about my own. Is that really a bad thing?

I get that we don't want girls to feel that is all there is to them and they have little else to offer the world. I get that we want to raise boys who value the goodness inside of a girl rather than only what her outside conveys. I get that beauty is "more than skin deep," but I also get that sometimes it is nice to feel pretty. Every time I read anything about helping kids develop a healthy self-esteem I come away feeling extremely guilty that I still like to feel pretty.

The whole sum of my identity as a person is not in the moments in which I feel good about my appearance, but displeasure in my appearance often leads me to make healthier choices which then make me feel better about myself. If I want to fit into my pre-pregnant jeans, then I'm less likely to grab a handful of chocolate chips every time I walk by the freezer, I'm more likely to get outside and go walking, I'm more likely to care about how much sleep I get and that I've been eating my vegetables. I'd like to take the audacity to claim that perhaps being aware of our image can be a good thing. The way we look, and the way we feel about how we look, can motivate us to make healthier choices that will improve how we think of ourselves on the inside. The trick, I think, is to recognize that image is a piece of the whole and not the whole enchilada.

Is it possible we've let the pendulum swing too far trying to correct misconceptions created in the past? I really don't know what the answer is, or if there is one. How can we ever know what combination of variables creates a person's thought process? Perhaps I'm taking the easy way out by standing neutral ground on this issue, but I don't think it's as big of a deal as some others seem to. I may be wrong, but who knows, I may also be right.

Paper Airplane Mobile

Our internet has been down, and frankly it's not so much fun. I didn't realize how addicted I was. Thank goodness for phones! I literally check Pinterest every morning before I even get out of bed** just to see if any of my insomniac friends pinned something during the middle of the night that I just can't live without seeing yet. It's a sickness.

On our way out of the house this morning I ran into a neighbor and was reminded that I promised to babysit her girls today, a fact that had completely slipped my mind. So with no internet and being "stuck" at home for several hours I finally got on this ridiculously easy airplane mobile I've been wanting to make for The Boy's room.

Did I say it was easy? This was one of those embarrassingly simple projects.

Step 1: find a stick.
Step 2: fold paper airplanes.
Step 3: hang airplanes from stick.
Step 4: hang stick from ceiling.
Step 5: try really hard to think of a step 5 so it feels like there was some actual effort involved.

After searching the web, I came up with six airplanes that were possibilities and folded each out of computer paper trimmed to 5x7 so they would be petite when finished. I wrote the name of each plane in the center fold so I'd be able to remember which was which. Then I eliminated the one I liked least so there were 5 usable designs. I like to stick with odd numbers since I think they typically balance better visually. 

I have had this 5.5x8.5 striped vellum literally since the summer of 1999 when I planned a bridal shower for a friend. This seemed like a good use for the rest of it with some metallic gold paper thrown in for contrast and spunk. I promise it's got a sheen to it, you just can't tell here.

I kid you not, that's about all there is to show.

The hardest part of this project turned out to be figuring how to hang it without falling face first off my step stool (short people problems). I ended up using 3M command hooks, as I have done with nearly everything in our apartment. It is very light and two hooks would have handled the weight just fine, but then my crazy imagination pictured one coming loose for some reason and the branch falling on my sleeping baby - so I added the third for extra precaution. 

I really love it! It's simple, and airy, and just adds a little something to make the room feel more baby centered than just a crib stuck in the storage room, which let's face it, it pretty much is. Coupled with the map from my teaching supplies and a world travel theme started to emerge. One day he'll have a room that is all his own, after all, they tell me grad school doesn't last forever...

**In full disclosure, this post was mostly written in November, before I was awake periodically through the night with a newborn. Now I check Pinterest in the middle of the night while feeding a little human.

I found the paper airplane templates here:
http://www.funpaperairplanes.com/
http://www.10paperairplanes.com/

Window Shopping

So, I don't need anything. As in the my-house-was-overflowing-already-and-then-I-added-a-baby kind of not needing anything (Except perhaps clothes that fit my nursing boobs... but that is another topic entirely). I still love to dream though. Since I have a baby shower to attend tonight I simply HAD to head to Target for a gift, and once I was there what was the harm in a little imagining?

It's sort of inevitable, actually. 

It's not uncommon for my daily dreams to have a coordinated color scheme. Granted, that is probably because of the way colors are either coming in or going out at any given time so there is a plethora of one at any given time. I find I love them all, so I'm in danger whenever I set foot in the door. 

How great are those jars? I love the dark teal one on the middle shelf.

I have been wanting this bath rug for a while now. Isn't it fun? It makes me think of flowing water and not in the way that screams "my whole family must have just showered."

Plus it looks awesome with my orange shoes. 

Then there was this awesome fuzzy blanket to match! Seriously, who doesn't love a fuzzy blanket, especially coordinated to a bath rug not visible from where you snuggle? Seriously, in northwest literally two thirds of the year is sweater weather. It wouldn't surprise me if placing blankets in powder rooms became a thing.

These shoes look way fun, especially with the fairly neutral jean and tee shirt days that I am living. Hahaha! Who am I kidding? Jeans are dressy. It's more like yoga pants and old maternity tee kind of days. Some fun and funky kicks are always delightful and make me feel I have a reason to wear real clothes. 

This may have been the most painful clearance find to leave behind- at least since the marble cake plate in December, the lovely, lovely marble cake plate. I'm still weeping over that one. The only reason this didn't come home with me was the thought of trying to make room for it in our little kitchen. It's was very heavy duty and full of possibilities. I must stop thinking about it before I hop in the car and go back to get it. 

Ohmygosh is anyone else obsessed with White Collar??? I don't crush on celebrities but that Neal Caffrey character is something else. This hat was in the infant section- YES! The INFANT section and all I could picture was a darling little photo shoot with my bubs. I even texted the hubs a picture partly wishing he'd suggest I get it even though it's totally impractical and the awesomeness of it would be completely lost on him. 

So. Cute. 

If the bubs hadn't been peacefully sleeping I would have laid him on the floor and had a mini photo shoot with it right there in the middle of the store. 

...And then I would have died from how cute it was. 

Which made this one all the more tempting... After all, it's adorable AND on clearance AND likely to be worn more than once. 

I made the smart choice however.

Boo.

Target has a way of making me think I need things there is not a chance on this green Earth I would have ever known I was missing. Now that I'm home I remember that bringing anything else into this house might qualify us for an episode of Hoarders and I'm glad to not have to go through that. Oh, the humiliation.

Does Target do this to you too? Please tell me I'm not alone. What do you do when you find yourself most lured by the desire to have pretty much everything you see?

MIA

Well, I've been a little busy lately.

Having, and then constantly loving on, this gorgeous little boy.

He's totally my favorite.

My favorite son anyway. I have to be careful saying things like that. His older sisters are still a little sensitive about their place in the family even though they love him dearly, so I have to make it clear that I don't actually have a favorite. I've always been a baby person and never thought I'd get to have another, so I'm extra sappy about it this time around.

Finally after 5.5 weeks I'm starting to feel like myself again. I've been baking and attempting to clean my house. Today I even did my hair!

It's a miracle.