Halfway through her double-digit addition homework my daughter, 8, looked up at me and said this:
"Mama, I want to be a rock star and actress on the Disney Channel. But they might ask me to have plastic surgery to be on the Disney Channel. If they asked me to, I'd have plastic surgery. Maybe to make me really thin or to get fake boobs. They can do that, you know. Put in fake boobs."
Okay, I say to myself:
Two score and ahummnah years ago you were born precisely to have this conversation with precisely this child. Right now. Here it is. This is your moment. You own this. You are this. You have trained your entire life for this. This is Olympics of Mindful Parenting, baby. Grab the gold. This is guaranteed Mother of The Year right here. Right now. Go claim your crown.
"Interesting," I say, striking precisely the right alchemy of empathetic focus and emotional distance.
Breathe. Focus. I am the Mother. I will create this moment. I will BE this moment.
I continue:
"Let's think this idea through. Your body is exactly the way it should be, as we have often discussed. You are healthy and strong and active and beautiful. Your body will change naturally into just the right body for you when it's ready."
I have SO got this.Perfect launch. Steady. Steady.
"Plus....
Plastic surgery hurts more than 683 gazillion shots with bee stings on top of the shots. You bleed and bleed and there's blood everywhere and it hurts soooooooo much and the medicine they give you makes you throw up for days and days and maybe weeks and any kind of plastic surgery that is just to change your looks for and not for health reasons, well, they can't give you medicine to sleep, like at the dentist. And it costs all the money anybody ever had and so probably we'd have to sell everything including the dog....
But,
Your 9th birthday is coming up and Daddy and I did say you could get your ears pierced for your 9th birthday so we could think about fake boobs instead. It's your body, like I always say.
Good recovery. No problem. Nailed the landing.
