When I began this blog, I really had no intention of writing everyday, but as a close friend observed, clearly, I needed an outlet. At this moment, I am blogging in my kitchen, where the floor sorely needs to be swept, dinner needs preparing, and Hubby will be returning from work in one hour.
I also had the intention to write about sewing and crafting primarily; perhaps I will tomorrow. Again, I clearly needed an outlet. Because today, I need to write about body image.
And I need to start by talking about my daughters' backsides. Like most moms of young children I know, I love my girls' little bottoms. Especially in the summertime when they are bright white with brown legs attached like the Coppertone girl from the 1960s. They are so cute and round! The girls know it too, and they are quite fond of their own touchies, too, as evidenced by the fact that I catch them shaking them in the mirror often, doing what they call "the booty dance." (Okay, I probably taught them that word. I'm not proud of it!)
Now, I am not incredibly fond of my own rear end. (Shocking I know. Most women love their bottoms... ha ha ha.) It tops the list of body parts I would like radically altered, barely winning out over the runner up: my thighs.
I was at the pool with the kids in late spring and had what I have decided was quite a shocking thought. As my eldest ran toward the pool, I thought, "Man, if only I had that butt and those thighs."
This thought was immediately followed by, "My gosh, she's a six year old! I'm a mother of two in her mid thirties!" Isn't it crazy that the figure fed to us as the most desirable is actually that of the pre-adolescent little girl? I've watched the other mommies at the pool (come on, you know you do it too), and even those who are most in shape do NOT have those kinds of legs and bottoms.
I shared this thought with my best girlfriend, and she noted that it's no wonder pedophilia is so rampant if we are sexualizing the bodies of little girls in the media. I don't know if pedophilia truly is on the rise (though I'd guess it is), but I thought this was a profound observation. Not only is our culture asking the impossible of grown women, it may be, as a byproduct, making little girls objects of desire.
It could be the two Oreo Double Stuffs I ate an hour ago talking, but I'm going to try very hard this summer to bare my mommy body at the local pool without apologizing for it. Yes, I could do with a little more Pilates. But in the meantime, I think I'll start with a booty dance. Would any of you ladies out there like to join me?