One Thing I Hate About Having A Daughter

Being a woman is one of the hardest things in the world. I could list a million different reasons why, but what I find is THE hardest is our image. I don't mean the way we come across, I mean flat out the way we look. What color our hair is, how smooth our legs are, what size breasts we have, our shoe size, and of course the most important to everyone....our weight.

I'll never forget the actual day I started worrying about my weight.  I may have told this story before but it's important.  I was 15 and a sophomore in high school. The guy I was dating at the time called and said he wanted to stop by and say hi real quick. Being 15, nothing made me happier than that. He pulled up in the driveway and I hopped in the passenger seat, he gave me a quick peck and then sat back in his seat. Out of nowhere he said (as he poked me in the stomach) "wow, you're putting on a little weight huh? Might need to do something about that." Now I have to say, I was notorious for dating some real douches in high school (yes mom you were right, AGAIN) but I had never really been worried or concerned with my weight until then. I was mortified and humiliated and remember going in the house and immediately getting on the scale. To clarify I was a size 5, an apparently humongous, gross, size 5. I have had a problem with my self esteem and image ever since then. All because ONE insignificant comment was made by ONE person 14 years ago. Something so small stuck with me and has managed to influence the way I see myself. This is terrifying now that I have a daughter.  

When I found out I was having the girl I wanted so badly I was elated. There was nothing that was more exciting to me. I imagined the dressing up, the barbies, the baby dolls, doing her hair and all the fun stuff. What managed to elude my mind was what she will inevitably deal with as she grows. The pressure to be a girl. To wear the right clothes, do her hair the right way, and yes even be the "right" weight. What worries me even more is that no matter how much I tell her she is beautiful, perfect, smart, and amazing she will still most likely at some point see herself the way others let her, I know because my mom tried to tell me the same things. I am 29 and I STILL have image issues, the same ones that started from that asshole in high school. I don't ever want my daughter to feel any less beautiful because of a number on a scale or on a pair of pants. 

The media, Hollywood, actors, singers models you name it always complain about the pressures of the "business", but who gives into the "business"?  They do. When are the ones that reluctantly influence our young girls the most going to take a stand on what beauty really is?  I am going to do every single thing in my power to make sure my daughter knows that no matter what, she is the most beautiful person in the world, but as long as there are teenage boys, magazines, and whatever else telling her what "beauty" is my uplifting words just might get lost, but I refuse to accept that. I refuse to let anyone influence the way she sees herself. My daughter will always know that beauty is on the inside, and only her opinion matters. I hope someday that is a trend that catches on. The big smile she wears everyday, is the same one I want to continue to see for the rest of my life. Love yourself, be yourself, and don't let anyone change the way you feel about yourself in a negative way. We are all beautiful

Last First Moments

My daughter just had her 3rd birthday and the range of emotions I have been dealing with are insane.  There are times that I can't wait for her to grow up more (mostly out of the terrible 3's), and then other times I just want to freeze her in time.  Its a feeling that I had mildly with my boys, but it is worse this time because my daughter is my last baby.

Its really weird as a woman what goes through your head when you decide you are done having children.  In my case it wasn't really MY decision, it was more my body's decision.  I just had too many problems while pregnant to even entertain the idea of another baby.  I'm not even saying that I would have had anymore, but because the option for me isn't there, it made it that much harder.

I try not to spoil my daughter, but I admit she gets away with a lot...mostly everything.  She always gets an extra cookie because of the way she says "pretty pweeeese?", we rarely leave a store without SOMETHING "special", and she sneaks in our bed at night.  While it sucks and my husband and I wake up with sore backs (or her foot in his mouth, true story) I keep telling myself that I am never going to experience this age again.  I'm never going to have a little 3 year old whispering "Mommy, can I cuddle with you?" at 2AM again.  On top of that it is all going so fast.  I cant stand it, well most days, some days I'll be honest I wish she was an adult and out of the house.

I'm sure most women go through this eventually.  I mean at some point we stop having children (yes, even the Duggars).  Even if you are totally happy and comfortable with your decision to be done, a little piece of you melts when you see a tiny baby, or a pregnant woman and realize that wont be you again.  I had my kids young too, so a lot of my friends are just starting to have kids which ALSO doesn't help.  It really is like closing a huge chapter in your life.  When my doctor told me it wouldn't be wise and potentially dangerous to have anymore I broke down.  Like I said before, I wasn't necessarily planning on having anymore kids, but someone was telling me I couldn't, and anyone that knows me knows I am not very good with being told I cant do something.  I cried driving my husband to his vasectomy, I cried on the way home, the rest of the day, and off and on for months.  I felt like my body was officially worthless and useless.  My body was no longer going to do what it was built to do.  Yes I am lucky, I have 3 beautiful children, I know that and I'm not saying that any woman that cant have kids is less of a woman, this was just my personal feeling about myself.  In fact I tried to remind myself how lucky I was to have three beautiful healthy children, but my heart was still broken.

Every first milestone my daughter made, turned me into a slobbering blubbering mess.  To me they weren't firsts, they were lasts.  Last first moments, make sense?  Every stage so far has been as heartbreaking as the first.  Getting rid of her infant car seat, bottles, onesies, putting away her highchair, even buying her underwear (OK that was a little easier, so close to no more diapers).  While singing Happy Birthday to her recently, I got choked up.  My eyes welled up but I kept it together, and didn't let anyone see.  My last baby isn't such a baby anymore.  All I can do is helplessly try to embrace the good and even bad days, and soak up what is left of my kids being little.