Do You Love Your Body?

I am reading a book that is making me mad. Scott asks why I don't stop reading it. Simple enough, but the curious part of me wants to hear what other garbage/lies/bad advice these two moms can dream up. 101 Ways to Help Your Daughter Love Her Body seems like it would be a helpful tool for the mom of a daughter in today's culture, right? Sort of. I agree with a lot of the ways, but as Tom Dugan would say, "There's just a little bit of doodoo in the brownies."

If you don't get the reference, let me explain: Two 12 year old girls are wanting to see a PG-13 movie and are begging their dad to allow them. They explain how it only has a little bit of cussing and a little bit of nudity. They'll cover their eyes on those parts. So later in the day, he makes brownies and offers some to the girls. He holds back the tray of delectable treats and says, "Wait. Before I give these to you, I want you to know that I put just a tiny pinch of doodoo in this batch of brownies." They're gagging and freaking out and refuse to eat them when Dad makes the comparison between the brownies and PG-13 movies.

Our society is feasting on doodoo brownies every day. In fact, yesterday, when we took Liv and our niece to see Toy Story 3 we saw a prime example of this. I always anticipate the pre-movie animated short, but was unimpressed by Day and Night. Clever idea. But it had a little bit of poop in it. Why does the dopey night figure have to gawk over a sun-bathing beauty? Normalization of lust makes me nauseous. I often wish my life had not been infiltrated with people I love being sexually abused. I wish I didn't know human sex trafficking exists or that I could live blissfully with my head in the sand. But I am sensitive to the these innuendos. Especially when the message is being force-fed to millions of little kids (a.k.a. The Future).

Off the soapbox and back to the book...apologies. The book has common sense advice (that I often slip-up on). For example:

• Don't obsess about your weight in front of your daughter. Guilty.
• Don't weigh-in daily; weekly is sufficient. That's part of my morning routine and then I track it on my calendar. Guilty.
• Don't make negative comments about your body. Guilty.

Okay, so upon further retrospection, maybe I dislike this book because it is convicting.

But here's the part I disagree with. The crap. You are out shopping with your daughter. She chooses an outfit that is inappropriate for her age. You compromise and buy half of the outfit. The skirt, but not the shirt and then proceed to use the school dress code as your authority. No, here is what you do. In the southern wit and wisdom of Celia Rivenbark: Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like A Skank. You, the parent, say, "No, daughter you may not have this outfit. There is not enough fabric for the price or to leave any mystery. Go pick out something else or we can go home." Be the empowered parent.

Another negative habit that I am thankful I do NOT suffer from is comparing your old/flabby body to your daughter's youthful/thin one. Some moms do this, apparently. #13 Understand where your body ends and hers begins. Really? I have, however, compared my legs to my mom's legs and she wins! See...I probably shouldn't say/do that kind of criticizing.

So here lies my inner turmoil, my challenge: I must work extremely hard to be at peace with my body especially in front of my daughter because it is integral to our well-being. So yes Husband I will finish the book, even though it may infuriate me at times (and convict). In the same way, I will live in this world and I will speak out against injustices against women where just a little bit of doodoo is enough to make me vomit out a blog.

Mothers of daughters, any wisdom to impart? How do you show your body some love?