Older girls.

A cold spring day, both reading "Diary of a Wimpy Kid".

Jake was talking to Grace last night. He asked her what she wished she was better at and she said 'gymnastics' and that she wished she was skinnier. When Jake came and told me what she had said, I burst into tears. I mean, really? At 8 years old? One of my beautiful, healthy little birds is worried about her body? No, it couldn't be true. I must have heard wrong. 

I went into her dark bedroom, where she was reading in her bed and talked to her in length. Mostly I just listened. About how she wanted to run faster and be more flexible. The girls at school had been talking about being skinny. It was mostly very innocent and had little to do with a specific body image. I was partly relieved that it was more simple than what I thought. But still, there was the shadow of what's to come. Countless years of self-esteem coming and going and coming and going. 

Girls and women have a hard time in our society. Hopefully I can help them fight this battle. 

I've been reading the news today. Doing so can really steal the magic out of my day, but today, it has knocked me to the ground with gratitude.

It is so unfair that children have to grow up without parents. That grown women have to wake up every morning to memories of abuse and violence from which they will never mentally heal. That people in America have brothers and sisters that are shot in the street, mothers that die of cancer, and fathers who just don't ever come back. That's just mentioning a few.

What about the parts of the world that have no way of getting help because their government is too currupt to allow it? Why were they born at that time, in that country, only to suffer huge amounts of sorrow? There are people who are dying slowly of starvation, or in plane crashes, or by people that they once trusted. Why was I born into a good family, receiving a lifetime of blessings by birthright? I have my mental capacities, my children, my husband, my family, my physical needs met.

I look at the face of the third little life I've created and just can't stand it. I am so grateful for her, and the other two girls. One green, one brown and one blue pair of eyes looking up to me for guidance. And I guess for them, I don't want praise, honor and achievement to be their goals. If they could just give themselves away, little by little, to those who have much less than them, they will feel enriched and successful. And that's all a mother can hope for.