I recently opened the pages of my beloved Real Simple magazine to see an article on the many uses of zip lock bags. I became instantly excited and a bit self-congratulatory since I have been using zip lock bags for a variety of reasons since becoming a mother. Need to bring crayons to a restaurant to keep the kiddies amused? Throw them in a zip lock. Game pieces keep falling out of a battered and torn game box? Zip lock. Special hair clips getting lost in an over crowded drawer? Zip lock. I felt good about myself, thinking that I had come up with an idea worthy of the pages of Real Simple.
Fast forward two issues. A letter to the editor chastising the magazine for extolling the virtues of a product that is not environmentally friendly. Oh well, there goes my Mother of the Year award.
I try to be "green". I am militant about recycling at home. If I work someplace that does not recycle paper, I bring my unwanted paper home to recycle. My car is littered with plastic water bottles because I will not throw them away (and always forget to bring them in the house, but that's another story.) However, I am also a busy mom, and sometimes a busy schedule necessitates short cuts. I'm sure I have single handedly destroyed a rain forest somewhere due to the number of paper towels I use (sorry, Sting). And I never for one second considered cloth diapers. So, I straddle the line between tree-hugger and wasteful capitalist.
But I guess that is what parenting is. A series of inconsistencies. One minute good cop, the next bad cop. One minute confident, the next deflated. It's all a point system. And we just hope that when all is said and done, the majority of our points are on the right side, whatever that "right" side means to us. Who know, maybe one day I'll have enough points for that Mother of the Year award after all. In the meantime, please excuse me, I need to grab an extra-large paper towel and clean up some spilled non-organic milk.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Beauty is a Beast
Recently I was laying in bed with my 4-year old daughter. I told her I love her. She said to me "do you know why people love me?" I asked why and she replied "because I am pretty." Yes, you are right to have that contorted look on your face at this moment. I froze, not knowing exactly how to respond. When I regained my inner composure I explained to her that people love her because she is sweet, and kind, and funny, etc., not because she is pretty. And I prayed the message got through.
The thing is, in some sense, she is right. It is without bias that I say that my daughter is truly a beauty. She has dirty-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and lips like Angelina Jolie. In fact, over the years random strangers have told me that she looks like Brad and Angelina's daughter, Shiloh (not because I dress her in boyish clothes.) Almost every day, someone comments on her looks. I am always hesitant to say "thank you" afterward, fearing that being grateful for such comments give them more importance than I would like.
I am always so cognizant of building up the confidence of both of my daughters by complementing them. As a woman I know all too well what it feels like to feel unattractive. My husband and I are always telling our daughters how beautiful they are. Is this bad? Does it come to a point when it is too much? Yes, we also tell them how smart they are, how thoughtful, how they can do anything they put their minds to. I tell them time and time again that Barbie dolls do not represent the way real women look. In fact, my 8 year old is tired of hearing it from me. But they are faced with the reality every day. Television commercials, store ads, songs, billboards.
What is a mother to do? I wear make-up. I get my eyebrows done. I do my nails. I have even recently been watching what I eat in order to lose weight (however, I do not allow the word "diet" in my house, as far as the kids are concerned, mommy is trying to be healthier by eating so much salad that it is coming out of her ears.) So, I can't altogether tell them that a person's appearance means nothing. But I'll be damned if I am gonna let my little girl think that people love her because she is pretty.
This may be the first time I have ever wished I had sons. Hey, maybe Angelina and Brad are on to something.
The thing is, in some sense, she is right. It is without bias that I say that my daughter is truly a beauty. She has dirty-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and lips like Angelina Jolie. In fact, over the years random strangers have told me that she looks like Brad and Angelina's daughter, Shiloh (not because I dress her in boyish clothes.) Almost every day, someone comments on her looks. I am always hesitant to say "thank you" afterward, fearing that being grateful for such comments give them more importance than I would like.
I am always so cognizant of building up the confidence of both of my daughters by complementing them. As a woman I know all too well what it feels like to feel unattractive. My husband and I are always telling our daughters how beautiful they are. Is this bad? Does it come to a point when it is too much? Yes, we also tell them how smart they are, how thoughtful, how they can do anything they put their minds to. I tell them time and time again that Barbie dolls do not represent the way real women look. In fact, my 8 year old is tired of hearing it from me. But they are faced with the reality every day. Television commercials, store ads, songs, billboards.
What is a mother to do? I wear make-up. I get my eyebrows done. I do my nails. I have even recently been watching what I eat in order to lose weight (however, I do not allow the word "diet" in my house, as far as the kids are concerned, mommy is trying to be healthier by eating so much salad that it is coming out of her ears.) So, I can't altogether tell them that a person's appearance means nothing. But I'll be damned if I am gonna let my little girl think that people love her because she is pretty.
This may be the first time I have ever wished I had sons. Hey, maybe Angelina and Brad are on to something.
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