Quit projecting your own fucked up issues onto my baby!
6:04 p.m. - 2006-04-25

Yesterday afternoon on Oprah (no, I don't normally watch Oprah, just happened to catch it this time) : self-esteem issues in three and four year old girls.

Seriously, these two beautiful little girls were obsessed about the way they looked. One wanted to go around in full make-up all the time ("I'm so ugly without it!") and the other thought she was fat. There was also a gorgeous teenage model who has the same issue, but I had to deal with the baby right after she came on.

Needless to say, I was shocked by what I saw. These two beautiful kids--just babies, really--are already buying into society's fucked up ideas about beauty and body image. How scary is that? Oprah did a lot of focusing on how important it was for their mothers to display confidence and self-love about themselves, because the little girls pick up on the vibes that their moms project, and I completely agree with her.

This show particularly struck home with me because of a phone conversation with my sister yesterday. Normally I cringe when the caller ID shows her number, but since I'm staying at my folks' for the week, I figured that she was just calling to talk to "her Dad," and that the conversation would be brief enough for me to give her their cell phone number, exchange a few pleasantries, and last no longer than five minutes or so.

Not exactly what happened.

I'm not sure if I mentioned it here or not, bu my sister visited a few weeks ago--the first time she's seen the baby since Christmas--and couldn't stop talking about how fat Ali is. "She's so fat! She's the fattest baby I've ever seen! Oh my GOD SHE IS SO SO SO FAT!!" I dismissed it as best I could then, but when I talked to her today, I mentioned I was nursing, and she said, "That girl needs to go on a fast or something to lose some weight...she's SO FAT! I mean, she is seriously the fattest baby EVER!"

My daughter is six months old. She is beautiful and brilliant and perfect in every way (biased? me? never.), and BITCH, YOU'RE PISSING ME OFF, IF YOU DON'T STOP CALLING HER FAT I'M GOING TO BREAK YOUR FUCKING NECK.

(Totally not kidding about that part, Jessica.)

My baby is also cutting her first tooth, and is subsequently screaming her lungs out whenever I put her down. The kid can wail, lemme tell you.

Ahem. I'm off to take a Midol. And maybe a Xanax.

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I am: so very many things. A mother, a wife, a dreamer, a lover of animals and babies, a friend. I've been called a bitch, but if that's what you call someone who stands up for what they believe in and refuses to settle, then I guess the title fits.

loves: my family, horses, a full night's sleep, puppy breath, my daughter's laughter, thunderstorms, bubble baths, makeup, soft sheets, David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs, wine, massages, the written word, and sour straws.

dislikes: closed minds, depression, pimples, extreme heat, math, panic attacks, black licorice, doing laundry, white chocolate, gin, Bush.