I look up from my book and into those earnest brown eyes, surrounded by thick lashes. I take in the lock of hair falling in her face, there because she is growing it out. I look at the nose, liberally sprinkled with cute freckles, and at the mouth, soft and pink. Her face is lightly tanned from being outside all summer, although lately she has become a TV couch potato.

“Yes and no.”

The eyes roll, the nose squinches up and the mouth twists to the side.

“Mom!!!!”

OK, the quick and dirty response is not enough. I cast around, looking for a way to make it make sense. I know where this question is coming from. She has an uncanny ability to suddenly pop up during conversations that are about her (and her brother), and my husband and I had recently been talking about how quickly time has gone by.

” What I mean is I know you are growing up, but sometimes you surprise me.   I know you are growing up, and even though there are things you are not ready for, there are times when I forget how much you are ready for. I am just not keeping up with you. Make sense?”

The eyebrows come together, the nose wrinkles, and I can see the thought process. She is a bright kid and I always try to answer honestly and directly, as much as I think I can. As much as she is ready for.

Her forehead clears and she looks at me with those bright brown eye, just like her father’s, and says brightly “OK!” She turns away, and then turns back. ‘I am growing up you know.” And she skips off to her room of purple and Tinkerbell and movie posters of the Jonas Brothers and Zac Efron, leaving me to ponder. Yes, I do know. And I am trying to cope, and I hope I am doing the parenting thing right.

We are trying. We monitor the movies we see and the tv watching, trying to choose positive things.  I can only take so much Spongebob and Hannah Montana and Jonas Brothers, but these are the stations that seem the most harmless and at least there is a moral or lesson of some sort among the bad jokes and overacting. (I actually often enjoy Spongebob’s humor, but that is another blog for another time…) And I find the media ads in between to be something that, while pushing the latest toy or movie, at least not full of body image iconography or other things I am trying to protect my kids from. Greed I can handle, I can explain why we don’t need something, but some of those ads  on other channels are introducing things I am not ready to explain. Nor do I think I need to. Yet.

So far my kids come to us with questions about things they wonder or have heard or seen, so I feel OK. I hope this continues, for a long time.

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Another conversation:

“Can I get a bra?”

I bite back my immediate response of “Whatever for?” (oh that sarcasm, it surfaces easily) and slide my eyes away from the chicken I am coating to look at my daughter.  I can hear my husband suppressing a snort in the other room, but I know how important this question really is. This is not a question about bras, this is a question about her body.

“Sure.”

“When?” The excitement is there, with a touch of fear.

“Next time we go shopping, we can look at them and decide what you want.”

” I already know what I want. ” Oh, the confidence. “Some of us at school have talked about it.”

“OK, but we will look and pick one or two out.”

“YAY!”

I know how important this step is. It is not about supporting body parts (at least not yet) but about feeling good about herself. There are small mounds developing, and she is conscious of this. (Also, her shirts rub against the tender skin, but she isn’t so worried about that.) Fitting in and feeling good are important, as I emphasize to my husband later. He understands, but not the way I do, I think.  The bra is a big step, even if it is just to make the points round under her clothes. She feels good, and that is what I want for her.

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“Does this make my butt look big?”

Oh, this questions hurts my heart. I have heard myself say this, both as a joke and in earnest, and now she is asking too.

I have struggled for a long time with body issues.  In this media drenched world of models and super models and Internet ads for weight loss products I have tried to foster a confident person with good self-esteem.  Can I do it with all of the other forces that are out there, pounding on her consciousness? Because as she gets older I have less and less control over what she is exposed to and talks about.  For those of you joining this program already in progress, I am using this blog to try to explore and accept who I am and what I can do, and my biggest challenge is the questioning of myself about my abilities, including my parenting. (And accepting myself as I am, but that is another story too…)

We have talked about the tooth fairy and periods. We have discussed what it means to be nice to others and how to deal with bullies and mean girls. We have had long conversations about lots of things. Shes stands in a space that is not quite teen but not little anymore, a place I remember well for the pain and suffering, a place not yet labeled when I was that age, but is now called “the tweens.” I am hoping to help her navigate this ocean of questions and issues and come out on the other side ahead of the game. I am scared.

I answer honestly. “No, it doesn’t. You look just right.” She smiles and goes her way, to biking and playing with her American Girl doll, to playing school with her stuffed animals and having pretend conversations on her cell phone about fashion and boys.  Back and forth on the cusp she rocks, and I will be there for her. Meanwhile, I am going to work on accepting myself and who I am, so I can be a better role model for her.

“You look just right.”

Lately I have decided that I wanted to try to take artistic photos (if that isn’t too snobby sounding) and I joined a local photo club. I still need to get photo shop for the computer but I have a couple of other freebie programs I have tried out.  Here are some of my attempts at art:

Reflections of me

Flowers were fun:

Animals were challenging (still haven’t caught the chipmunk):

Right on the porch! Cheeky!

An assignment for photo club was food:

My favorites - the peanut butter ones!

Hershey!!!

well, I was amused...

So, I am still trying. Next club assignment is landscapes. I have decided that I really like taking photos of stories, and capturing the moments. I suppose most people do, but I am trying to improve my skills and hopefully the quality of the stories I capture as well.

Seriously, I like the Wii Fit games and such,  am actually excited to get better enough to get back on it.  It has the yoga and such and a trainer (she is too skinny but whatever) and I like the balance games. I even enjoy the weight training although I am not that good at it. However, before you do all of this fun stuff,  you go through the body test.

Hmmpf.

You fire up the board and it tells you to step on. The voice is a little annoying voice, like someone trying to be a baby but failing. But, I can ignore that. I step on and the little voice usually says “Oh.” In a soft, overburdened sort of way. OK, I will try to ignore that comment on my weight and go on.

Then the little voice says “measuring. measuring. measuring.” like I have to be entertained while I am waiting. The very first time you use the board it weighs you and tells you your BMI, as a base point. Now it is measuring your current weight and calculating your BMI. Then it tells me “Oh! That’s obese!” Like I didn’t already know that. Thanks ever so. Feel motivated?  Oh no.  Feel inadequate? Oh yes.

As if that weren’t enough, the board has a little character on the screen that tries to give you tips and asks you personal questions, like “Are you aware that overeating may be a problem for you?” Yea, I do know that. Why do you think your little friends says “Oh” every time I step on?? OK, so I stopped eating Oreos for breakfast. That’s a start , isn’t it?

Now, I suppose I could skip the body test and go straight to the work out, but the masochist in me seems to want to know this information.  Maybe today I am not obese any more, just overweight! Maybe I have magically lost 30 pounds over the last two days!

Keep dreamin’ Alice, this ain’t Wonderland.

I lack willpower and self control, two things I have been working on. So, little Wii Fit board, please stop commenting on my life!!! I am doing the best I can.

That sounds snarky and jealous. It is, a little, but it is admiration more than anything. We went to the same college, had the same professors and shared many of the same desires for our future. It is funny that we went very different directions, but for all the right reasons. I think. 

When I started my theater major I was so sure I would be a professional scene designer or carpenter, maybe even a lighting person. I worked in the theater scene shop from my first semester onward, always intending to go into professional theater. I wanted to travel, study for a masters, and see lots of things.  However, by the time I graduated I had also taken an education major “as a backup” and eventually graduated as an English teacher. I was scared to try to make it in a tough business where everyone was always under the microscope and the competition was mean. I was afraid I would fail. SO, I decided that teaching high school and doing a drama program was what I was supposed to do (I was delusional and scared, so it seemed right).

She, on the other hand, went on to get an MFA degree and become a professional scenic designer. She has worked in many professional theaters as well as currently teaching in a university where the program is booming and she is doing marvelous things. She has gone to London at least twice with student groups and has attended many professional conferences. She is living the dream I started with, and doing it well.

Jealous? Me? Oh yes. Had I had a backbone, I would have stuck it out and I could be directing or designing somewhere. But I didn’t, and I direct community theater and teach and direct in a lovely little high school, married to a wonderful and talented man with two terrific kids. I love my job(s). I just can’t help feeling, sometimes, like a loser.

So, part of the point of this blog, as I said before, is a chance to look at myself and appreciate what I am. I am a person who has chosen a path that will help other people. I hope. I am a person with talent who has chosen to share it with students who may not otherwise experience some of what I do. I hope.  I have to believe that I am where I belong because I am supposed to be here, and not somewhere else. I hope.

So, I am going to appreciate what I am and have become as much as I appreciate what she is and has become. I love that we are still in touch after so long. When we get together it is like we were never apart, and that is not just because we facebook obsessively and chat  A LOT. It was like that before, too. I could just walk in tomorrow and she would squeal with delight and hug me, and then we would talk about…anything.

So, she is living her life, not mine, and we are where we are supposed to be. Ah, much better.

typical thought process:

Donna: Wow, it is later than I thought. I should get up and do something.

Recovering patient: I am going to get better the more I rest.

Puritan: My grandmother would be appalled that I haven’t gotten up yet and done several loads of wash as well as cooked and baked for fifteen people.

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Donna: I am sitting here on the porch. How nice.

Recovering patient: This is so great, I am doing well. Sitting up is good at this point.

Puritan: There must be SOMETHING I can be doing while I am just sitting here! Maybe I should have the kids bring me some work to do, or I can start some school work for September.

See what I mean?

I have always been this way. Sometimes I can ignore it, or pretend that what I am doing is “work,” such as reading a book. I am, after all, an English teacher, so reading is OK.  Some days I have fits of energy and do a ton of things so that I can feel like I have done what I ought to do. It is this work ethic that makes me stay in my class room until the last minute so that I am often later picking up my kids than I ought to be, or want to be, thus forcing me to rush around and feel like I am inadequate.

Ah well, better to have a work ethic than never to have worked at all.

I am home after a surgery to reverse a colostomy that was put in place in Jan of this year, in an emergency.  So, I am in the recuperation no heavy lifting phase of life, and looking for fun. 

Had I known I had divirticulitis, I would have behaved very differently for the last 20 years! So now I am on the next step of changing my life so that I deserve what I have and appreciate what I am, and I have decided to share it on the net.

So, stay tuned if you are interested. Next installment will follow! Why is she calling herself dramababe?????