The F Word

The other day, my 6 year old daughter asked me "mom, am I skinny or fat?".

Whoa. Stop the presses.

Is this happening already? She is only SIX years old. And in Kindergarten no less.

Now I will admit that I lovingly call her "skinny minnie" from time to time. For that, I just slapped myself on the wrist. Ouch. Shame on me for planting that word in her head.

Since opposites are logical, I'm guessing it didn't take much for her to get from the S word to the F word. Un-PC nicknames aside, I really hope she doesn't think of herself, or others, in terms of 'skinny' or 'fat'.

So, after she asks me this loaded question, many more questions race through my mind. Where is this coming from? Is she already worried about her self-image? Why does she think you must be one or the other? And most importantly, how do I answer this question?

Here's a recap of what followed:

ME: Does it matter if you are skinny or fat?

DAUGHTER: Well, I guess so.

[A silent pause as we both think things through a bit.]

DAUGHTER: I think I am skinny, but I don't know.

ME: What do you think is best, being skinny, being fat, or being healthy?

DAUGHTER: Ummmmm....being healthy?

ME: Yes. Being healthy is the absolute best thing to be. And how can we be healthy?

DAUGHTER: Eating our fruit and veggies.

ME: And exercising our bodies too. It keeps your muscles and your heart healthy and strong. Right?

DAUGHTER: Okay.

[Insert sigh of relief here.]

DAUGHTER: So, am I skinny or fat?

[Seriously?!? I thought I just dodged that bullet.]

ME: You are perfect. What matters is that you are...

...then I go on to list a million and one great things about her, all of which have nothing to do with her weight or how she looks.

Unfortunately, this is only the beginning. The older she gets, the more her innocence gets exposed to the world, and the harder we have to work at keeping her sweet.

And smart.

And self assured.

And all those OTHER "S" words.

Phonicphobia

We have always been so proud of all the new things our children accomplish: first words, first steps, first friends. So it should be no surprise that we were thrilled when our oldest daughter began to read when she was five years old. We cheered her on as she sounded things out and opened up a new frontier in her life. Actually, in OUR lives.

Soon she was off and running. The elation that she could actually read her own books (oh, how we had prayed for this day!) was quickly followed by a paralyzing fear.

While browsing the cable guide, I could no longer say “there isn’t anything you want to watch on tv” while simultaneously passing up all those insipid shows that I refused to allow in our house (prime example: Sponge Bob). In fact, now the remote control is no longer in my domain.

The door to the outside world and all it's influences has been propped open by her little phonic-minded brain.

Last week while we were on vacation, she and I were in line at the airport bathroom.

"Mom, what's a Tampon?" she asks while examining the curious machine next to her.

I look at the women in line ahead of me and see shoulders jiggling while a few of the ladies have a good chuckle.

Phonicphobia. A very real condition.

MomD

MomD \mom-dee\ abbreviation for Mom Degree, noun: The honorary degree earned through time enrolled at the School of Mom. Single credits are earned through hands on experience and on-call service provided 24/7. Double credits are given for time spent breastfeeding and nursing ill children back to health. While the skills acquired during this time are vast and hard earned, it should be noted that this degree, if earned full-time, may be undervalued when re-entering the business world. It does, however, entitle the individual to unlimited use of the term “buck up”, especially when directed at your spouse, and the right to guilt-free massages when located anywhere within 100 feet of a spa.

You know you have been busy working on your degree at the School of Mom when your friends, even those without kids, call you up or email you for medical advice.

This past winter was one of the worst seasons for illnesses in our family. For the first time in six years, my oldest daughter missed school days, along with her younger sister, and I am now on a first name basis with the receptionist and nurses at the doctor's office. So begins the time when one winter in our household can single-handedly pay for our doctor’s next trip to the Bahamas.

Doctor visits aside, I guess I must have been a little more verbal about my suffering than I realized (who me? complain?), because within one season I had vaulted into a new category for advice. Suddenly I was fielding questions from friends like “I have stuff coming out of my eyes; what did it look like when your son had pink eye?” or ”The day care called and said my son has blisters in his mouth; what are the symptoms for Hand, Foot and Mouth? How long will he be contagious?”

According to the registrar in our house, these past few months of caring for sick children while my husband had an increase in business trips has qualified me for extra credits.

However I just received word that I need to retake the classes titled "Saying 'No' With a Smile" and "Learning to Love Chaos". I also got a notice that I am going to lose some credits for yelling at the top of my lungs "STOP YELLING!!"; apparently there is something about it that is unconstructive.

Self Diagnosis: Maternal Exhaustion

Prescription: One week in the Carribean without kids.

Possible Side Effects: Occasional bouts of worry, a persistent feeling like you forgot something, and an underlying homesickness for your children.