Wishes for my daughters


Like so many of my posts, they usually originate during a phone call with my BF.  Sometimes I can get three or four posts out of one of our conversations.  It's crazy, but so true.  She's not surprised when I sometimes exclaim, "Well that post just wrote itself!".

So last week we were talking about the cake batter pancakes I had made for dinner the previous night. When your six year old tears the recipe and picture out of Parents magazine, I'm pretty sure it's a sign from Heaven that this is dinner.  So I made them with a side of eggs to fool myself into thinking that pancakes, made with an entire cup of cake mix in the batter and sprinkles, were dinner worthy and not dessert.  I then made the remark that my kids are like garbage disposals and have the worst eating habits.  Which obviously is in direct relation to the fact that I can't eat anything that's actually delicious in the world.  For example I gladly buy things like birthday cake Oreos, S'mores pop tarts, and powdered donuts, which whoops sometimes get served for breakfast.  So as the BF and I talked about the garbage her kids eat, and my kids eat, I said this:

If I could have one wish for my daughters it would be that they are super tall and have awesome and speedy metabolisms.  

Are you freaking kidding me?
That's my wish for my daughters?

God forbid that I wish them to go on to secure themselves scholarships to Ivy League educations. Certainly I should wish that they go on to do great work in the world, love Jesus, and be kind to their fellow man.  No, no, my wish is that since they love to eat, that they have quick metabolisms.

What is wrong with this picture?

For starters, I remember what it's like to go through school as the fat girl.  The fat friend.  You want to know why I adore Fat Amy so much?  I was Fat Amy for years.  I was always the funny one, the one with the fantastic personality, but never the one.  Kids are cruel.  So, I worry, constantly about the day, where the word Fat becomes the worst "F" word in both of my daughters vocabularies.  So why wouldn't a mother who still battles her own bulge today, wish for the simple pleasures of a life with out the dreaded "F" word.

I realize I make it sound that my kids always eat crap.  They do eat fruits and veggies.  I promise.  We don't eat at McDonald's every night.  However I will admit that they love sweets and snack foods.  I know that this is partly my fault, but while we are all trying to eat better, and on most nights eat at the table, I still worry that I'm not leading them in the best direction food wise.

So perhaps the wishes for my daughters would be that they learn moderation, that they learn to love exercise, that they love to move and be outside.  I would wish that they would always love their selves, that they would find comfort in their own confidence.  And they would always be proud of who they are and what they are doing.  Even they aren't a size two, and aren't 5'11.

So by the end of my conversation with my BF, I realized that there is nothing wrong with wishing that your daughters don't have to go through the same ridicule that you did at one time in you life.  There is nothing wrong with wishing that your daughters will never have to worry about what the scales says, or what the boys say.  There is nothing wrong with wishing all those fears away.

I realize that those wishes are for me.  Those wishes are for Mommy and my heart, not them.

Because my wish for them is to be whatever they want to be.
Ivy League schools and any size dresses included.