I remember the first time she was placed in my arms. Even though I was weakened and exhausted from the process, I remember thinking that I’d never felt stronger. I felt empowered to completely love and protect her with everything I had. Nothing could stop me from creating the best possible environment so that she’d have the healthiest life.
I remember her scent, her warmth, her steely charcoal eyes, her long legs and tiny fingers. I remember the dark, matted curls at the base of her tiny head.
My heart expanded to hold all the love I felt for her, to the point where I feared my heart might burst.
I felt more love than I thought possible.
Before she was born, I was afraid that since I showered so much love on Will, I would not have the same amount of love for Jenny. The day Jen was born, I learned that I have an infinite amount of love.
The love flowed to Will and to Jen and there was no end to that love.
__________
The three of us walked around the fair this week.
We saw teenage girls with their young breasts falling out of the tops of their too-tight tanks, their uncomfortably short shorts and their tantalizingly applied eye makeup, and I wondered if their moms ever felt the desire to love and protect and nurture and guide them.
If they did, why do they let them go out in the world dressed as they do?
If their moms wanted the best for those girls, why were their thirteen year old girls wearing t-shirts that said, Hottie?
Why were they wearing earrings that dangled to their bare necklines, t-shirts tugged up to reveal navel piercings and tattoos that looked like invitations the carnies couldn’t possibly refuse?
Why were these fourteen year old daughters more interested in tossing their tresses, swaying their hips and riding on rides with boys, than consuming cotton candy, throwing darts at balloons and seeing who was brave enough to ride the Zipper?
Does anyone care about these girls?
Who is protecting them?
Who is guiding them?
Who is teaching them that their value and worth comes from inside, not from their tramp stamp, their eye-liner, or their breasts?
Do our daughters believe that in order to get love, this is how they must dress?
If they are out looking for love at the age of thirteen, does that mean they aren’t getting any love from their parents?
If this is how we send our daughters out into the world, does that bode well for the world?
Tags: divorce, life, love, marriage, Parenting, proactive, survive
You’ve said so much, I don’t know what to add.
I do think part of the problem is many programs on TV are inappropriate for teens, but they are allowed to watch anyway.
Then there are the ‘songs’ they listen to and the music videos they watch. It’s all about skimpy clothes, suggestive or blatant lyrics, and being a toy to some rich guy.
I’m not sure the parents of those girls are conscious enough to see whats happening because most households are two income, and they are wrapped up in work challenges.
I could have just as easily ended up a drug addicted prostitute as where I am now. I am eternally grateful for where I am, but I also fear for the girls who’ve been raised over the past 15 years.
I think what it says about our culture is that females are valued for what they’ve always been valued for:
as a sex object.
When you can’t escape the media frenzy that is only telling you one thing, you will start to believe it.
You are so right.
Right on TV.
Right on music and music videos.
How about magazines? How many magazines tell us that our lives would be better with Botox, a boob job, a nicer wardrobe and less grey hair? Apparently, we’re not good enough just the way we are.
All those things come back to parenting. I’m not an anti-TV person, but when I see stuff (whether it’s on programming aimed at kids or commercials for shows that I’d never let my kids watch) that seems to perpetuate this idea that kids should grow up fast, we discuss. We spend a lot of time discussing what is appropriate for kids at certain ages. It is imperative to offset the messages they get from media.
Jesse – so beautifully put. I know some girls at the less extreme end of this (no navel piercings or tramp stamps and not so much cleavage but make up and hair color and maybe shorts a bit too short) and know their moms. The girls are loved with the same fierceness that you love Jenny and I love my girls. But they have a slightly different take on parenting than you and I do. They are letting their daughters express themselves, I think. And follow their peers to be accepted. I haven’t discussed it with them but I think they’d say that they were watching closely and talking with their girls about appropriate behavior and making the right choices in terms of their actions (as opposed to their clothing choices).
I’m guilty of letting my girls watch pretty much whatever they want (although I have an irrational hatred of anything having to do with the Kardashians and refuse to let them watch that show in my presence). They listen to the music and watch the videos. But they show the videos to me and we discuss what’s going on. And I know their dad is talking to them as well. All I can do is hope and pray that we’re arming them with good judgment for when we’re not around . . .
Jessica,
Nice to hear from you on this one.
I like that your friends are letting their daughters express themselves. I’ve seen – in other kids – that if they aren’t allowed to make choices on their own – about hair, clothes, hobbies – they don’t develop the muscles required to make choices as they get older.
So far mine express themselves by wearing mis-matched socks, skulls on t-shirts (I hate that) and cutting their own hair (it’s only hair). I’m not sure how I’ll do when Jen gets older. I suspect she’ll emulate me, as I did my mom, and dress conservatively. I dunno.
Will swings from golfer kahkis to skater skulls. I guess the pendulum has to swing until he decides who he is.
I’m standing back, loving him in his skater skulls, and giving him room to discover who he is. The same goes for Jen. (Until she tries to leave the house in a too short skirt!!)
The hardest part of parenting, for me, is letting my kids make their own choices and therefore make their own mistakes. Once I realized that it’s through our mistakes that we learn the most, it got a little easier. Also realizing that I can’t control everything (and even when I do I don’t always know what the best outcome is anyway) also made it easier. The hard part is knowing when to intervene. When their choices are leading them down a path that is so dangerous (physically or emotionally) or has other implications down the road that they might not be considering, that I must draw a line. Or at least give them my 2 cents. (Obviously the 2 cents line comes far before the “it’s really dangerous line”!)
Jessica,
Your comment, in a nutshell, is a fine definition of parenting.
Give ’em room to try, experiment, succeed or fail, while we stand at the ready, on the sidelines, waiting to deliver our comments and advice.
Funny, though, how the timing between their experimenting and our commenting can be so tricky.
I know my kids often wish that I had a ‘shut-up’ button on my forehead.