My body through a 3 year old's eyes

My son makes me laugh. He makes me laugh every single day, in fact. This weekend was a whirlwind of body image issues for both of us. On Saturday, he told me I was skinny. The urge to just hug and kiss him to smithereens was overwhelming. But the bottom line is that he's learning what new words and concepts mean, and it's my job to make sure he gets accurate information. So in the interest of telling the truth, I gently told him that Mommy isn't skinny, but that I'm plump. Of course, I wanted to say "voluptuous," but c'mon, the kid is only three. The other thing that I worried about in that moment is that I didn't want him to see me get overly excited about being called skinny. Skinny is skinny and plump is plump. Period. Quite frankly, I think he enjoys the plumpness to an unfathomable degree. He loves to just fold himself into me while we're reading stories on the couch. He calls me squishy and giggles.

Well, then Sunday rolled around. At some point in the day, he ran up to me and exclaimed, "Mommy, you BUMPY!" all the while poking my fleshy belly. Nice. Really nice. I think I'll take an incorrect skinny over bumpy any day of the week. But it still made me laugh. Well, until he added "wrinkly" to the equation. For the rest of the day I was bumpy and wrinkly. Bumpy = funny. Bumpy AND wrinkly = a lifetime in Catholic school for you, mister!

There was also an event of monumental proportions happening in our household this weekend -- our son basically potty-trained himself. So, we've been trying to be very open about body parts and not infuse any self-consciousness into our son's life. I have to say that watching him admire his booty, completely decked out in Thomas the Train underwear, helped me relax about my own body image issues. When was the last time I had fun like that just by looking at myself in the mirror? When did I stop trying on outrageous hats and scarves and sunglasses? When did I stop allowing myself to just have fun with fashion? Shouldn't I be able to admire the parts of my body that I love the most instead of obsessing over the ones I don't? Yes, I should. Fun and weight do not have to be tied together. The truth is that there are parts of my body that I absolutely love. I mean love like other people love money. Or sex. Or fame. Or chocolate. My teeth are awesome. My eyes smile before my mouth does. My lips are full and beautiful. I love how I look when I've just gotten out of the shower and my hair (or lack thereof) is wrapped in a towel. I love my short sassy hair. I have great ankles. My small-ish head looks great in big fancy hats.

So there it is. I celebrate those things just because I can. The next time I'm out and I see a rack of sensational hats, I'm going to try them all on. Then, I'll look in the mirror and admire the me who smiles back.