Check mate Xena

Xena got annoyed with me tonight about something (who knows what at this point, she is easily miffed) and kept questioning my reasoning for "whatever it was". With all the grace and demeanor I could produce at the moment I simply replied, "It just is, what it is". Thinking the discussion over.

With as much indignation as her 5 year old body could muster she retorted, "It's not, what it's not!"

My 8,536th Reason to Protect My Daughters With a Vengance

I am already convinced that wrapping my girls in bubble wrap and keeping them hidden away in the tallest tower may just be the way to go. That was reinforced today while I was on line at Old Navy waiting to make a return.

I was by myself and had the chance to "people watch" (usually I am "kid watching"). Standing in line I noticed two young girls and a motherly type walk in together. The girls had obviously just been at some sort of competition by the way they were dressed. Or shall I say, "barely dressed". Both of them wore extremely short cheerleader uniforms with their hair done up in curls and ribbons. They looked to be maybe freshmen in high school. Quite a few people took notice when they walked in.

Behind me two guys made comments under their breath, typical gawking boy style, which I dismissed until one said, "hey man, remember how old they are". They were no boys. A minute later I turned casually to see who was behind me and found two men at least in their mid to late 20's. It got worse when a pregnant woman walked up obviously with one of the men by their conversation. All I wanted to do was wag my finger in their faces and rat them out to whomever the pregnant lady was. I restrained myself.

Last year at the CHAP convention I heard Doug Phillips of Vision Forum lecture on reclaiming the virtuosity of our children. He discussed how setting a foundation for manners of dress when children are young is crucial. One point that hit home for me was the fact that our daughters even as toddlers should not be running around in bikinis and tummy revealing clothing, not because as toddlers there is anything wrong with it, but that we are setting them up to wonder what is wrong with their bodies when we scramble to cover them up during the budding "tweener" years. If we set the standard high when they are young, it stays consistent and high when they get older.

Two summers ago I had purchased a cute two piece sport style swimming suit for Xena who was three at the time. I pulled it out for her to put on at our annual pilgrimage to the beach and as hard as she tried she simply could not get the bottom and the top to meet up. I explained to her that they were not supposed to go together, it was two-piece and she looked me right in the eye and said, "I can't let me belly show!". I scooped her up, kissed her and off we went to Wally World to find a one piece suit. I did not care about the waste of money I had just spent on the two piece or the cost of the new one. My three year old had enough common sense to know that her little temple was sacred and did not need to be shared with the world. The thought of people seeing her tummy actually was appalling to her. Just as appalling as the two men gawking at the two young teens today in Old Navy.

Teach your daughters just how special their bodies are and how wonderfully they are made. Teach them to be proud of the bodies they have been given and how crucial it is to keep themselves virtuous. I wonder if they sell abayas in pink?



P.S. After typing this I went to check in with some of my favorite blog friends and found this article on Stepping Heavenward. I am digging a hole in the sand to stick my head in...

A Little Therapy

Where and when was it decided that women, moms especially, were supposed to lose the confidence of their youth? One of my constant battles with myself is the fact that I am no longer 19, a soccer player and in great shape. I will never be 19 again, I may never play soccer competitively again and because most female bodies are not completely finished growing yet at that age (although I think I was done growing at 12!), I will never have the same body I had at 19. But do I really want to?

The body I had at 19 may have been strong and shapely, but it had not yet held a baby in it's womb nor provided nourishment for offspring. It hadn't had the privilege of being Mr. Clean's wife and preparing the journey to be with him "till death do us part". That was the body of a kid.

Yet I still fail to remember all these things when I am getting prepared for my day and lamenting over my wardrobe. "This hem is unraveling, this shirt is too old or these jeans are no longer very flattering", seems to be my battle cry every day. However I know if I had a wardrobe of brand new clothes it would be the same. It is not what I have, but who I have allowed myself to become. The 19 year old me would have put on a gunny sack and paraded it as if it were a Yves Saint Laurent ball gown. The me of today would probably find flaw with the gown itself.

This morning after my daily grumble, I finished dressing and was greeted with a knock on my bedroom door. Xena was there looking for a little fashion advice of her own. She wanted to know if the dress she had selected was supposed to have a shirt underneath it or not (she had put one on). I opened the door and was met with the most beautiful sight I could have received this morning.
My bohemian princess fully dressed, fully confident and knowing that she was stunning regardless of what she had picked to wear.
I want confidence like hers.