Her body, her choice

Photo by renfield on Flickr

"A double minded man is unstable in all his ways." ~ James 1:8  AKJV

Despite my recent post on foolish consistency, I really like to know where my boundaries are.  When I am in the process of trying to determine exactly what is appropriate and what isn't, I wind up getting frustrated with my kids and myself.  Once I am clear on what boundaries I will enforce and why, there is much more peace.

My latest conundrum has involved body boundaries and pride in appearances.  One of my convictions is that my children should know that their bodies belong to them, and that if they tell someone "no", that must be respected.  The only exceptions involve safety issues.  For example, I am ruthless about carseat usage.  Whether they like it or not, they must be properly buckled up when we go somewhere.   Elena has started fighting it a little.  She screams and flails.  There is no shaming, roughness, punishment or anything like that, but there is also no negotiation.  If we are going somewhere, she is in her seat.

Ariana has always shown some tactile defensiveness.  She is extremely sensitive to anything touching her body, and even in winter will wear the least amount of clothing possible.  She winds up in a short-sleeve shirt and underwear as soon as we get home.  She also loathes to have her hair brushed.  Regardless of how gently it is done, she is reduced to tears nearly every time.  We've tried haircuts and spray conditioners, different kinds of brushes and combs, etc.  They help a little, but it is still an ordeal.  Now with something like brushing teeth, I feel confident in enforcing it.  But there is no health/safety issue with hair--just my pride at stake because I don't want to appear neglectful.

We've negotiated different things--brushing a certain amount of strokes, stopping for a break anytime she asks, her doing it, me doing it, and pretty much every other thing that I can think of.  I've explained my reasons for wanting it to be brushed, we've talked of ways to reduce tangles, let her choose special clips or barrettes...nothing really helps.

I feel icky about trying to manipulate her or force her.  Deep down, I think that it is her body and that she should be able to refuse.  I also remember going through similar issues with my mom over fingernails.  I cannot describe how absolutely horrible the sensation was on my fingertips for the first two or three days after cutting my nails, even when they weren't cut too short.  I get how ridiculously dramatic it sounds to use terms like violation, rage, or even hurt--I really do--but the feelings of helplessness and violation were real. 

So now I am trying to navigate just how important it is to conform to cultural standards of haircare versus my daughter's right to say no and control her own body.  I would love to wrap up this blog post with a nice little bow of resolution, but I haven't quite found it yet.  So far, we compromise in that we do minimal brushing at home and negotiate some for special occasions.  (Yes, I have explained several times that keeping it brushed regularly will help reduce knots and tangles, but in reality, it doesn't seem to make a huge difference, and she insists that she would rather have less brushing, period).  Anyone want to solve my dilemma?

Divine Intervention: A Fashion Testimony

In many areas, I am a reasonably capable, accomplished woman. Fashion is not one of them. I've admitted my ineptitude in the past. It is just depressing, you know? For one thing, between four pregnancies in the last seven years, my size is in a constant state of flux. Additionally, every top that I buy has to be breastfeeding compatible or it just isn't worth the few times I might wear it (and obviously, most dresses are out). Finally, with four kidlets needing a new set of clothing about every three or four months due to growth and seasonal changes, my default is to spend our clothes budget on them.

Today, the Lord took mercy on me and guided my steps. I was at the store buying some much needed socks for Ariana. On the way to the kids' section, I passed a display of really cute jeans. I was wearing my only pair, nice, comfy ones that I have had for nearly seven years. Finding good jeans, like bras and swimsuits, requires heavenly help in the first place. At this point, I didn't even know what size I wore (which usually doesn't matter, since that varies among brands, anyway). Yielding to impulse (which in hindsight I believe was an angelic nudge), I grabbed a pair, guessing wildly as to size.

Now, some would say that the Almighty has far more important things to do than to care about my clothes. Why, yes. Yes, he does. On the other hand, Jesus Himself told us not to worry about clothes, because God dressed the flowers in far greater glory than kings, and He cares even more about us. Luke 12:27-28 I tried on the jeans, and they fit perfectly!

Just in case I needed further proof that this was the Lord's leading, as I put my old pair back on, they ripped, exposing a significant portion of my underwear! I was thankful that my top was very long. Walking to the checkout, carefully clutching my top in order to avoid mooning everyone, I saw that the jeans were 50% off. I bought two pair.

My Ragamuffin Band

I have long been aware of my own fashion ineptitude, and most of the time I am comfortable with it. However, as we played in the park today, I realized that it might have negative effects on my children.

My policy has always been that as long as it is clean and safety/weather appropriate for the outing, the kids are free to choose their own outfits once they are old enough to express an opinion. As babies, I dress them in very cute, but more importantly very comfy clothing. 100% cotton with no scratchy stuff.

Both grandmas have lamented the fact that their granddaughters missed out on ultra-frilly dress and tights as babies, but Ariana helped make up for it by going through a ballerina-princess phase as a toddler. For over a year, she wore either a tutu or a princess dress 24/7. Her tastes have grown more sophisticated as she has gotten older, and though she isn't opposed to a splash of magenta and sparkles, her current preference is for a brown or dark green ensemble with brown leather shoes.

Joel has two criteria for clothing: comfort and Spidey. It is no coincidence that nearly every photo he is in since the age of two shows him wearing a Spiderman shirt. He is very picky about softness, though. Therefore, his favorite outfits are super-soft Spiderman jammies. He will also wear Spongebob, but Spidey is the clear favorite.

Elena is still a nudist at heart (she may or may not have removed all her clothing while inside the playground at McDonald's last week :shifty eyes:). If she *must* wear something, she prefers Joel's old clothes, because she loves soft, Spidey and blue. She even has matching Spiderman shoes.

If we are going to some place where dressing up is expected, I make sure that the kids are appropriately groomed and for the occasion. But, if they are going to the park or some place where I expect them to get dirty and messy, I don't care what they wear or if their hair is perfectly coiffed. A quick comb through, and we're good.

Apparently, though, I am in a minority. As we played at the park this afternoon, I realized that my kids were the only ones who didn't look like they could be posing for a photo shoot at the park. The ones around us looked like models for Baby Gap, with adorable, perfectly coordinated outfits. The girls had hair perfectly arranged with ribbons and bows. All were immaculate.

In contrast, my own little band of ragamuffins looked decidedly scruffy. Ariana is going through a phase of hair chewing, so it was messy. She was wearing a green and gray long shirt with a matching sash, and green pants of the same shade but a different pattern. She had realized after we arrived at the park that she didn't have her shoes, and so was wearing an old pair of pink and white tennies with no socks. Joel wore his favorite Spidey pajamas. Elena had purple paint in her hair from some creative endeavors that hadn't yet completely washed out, one of Joel's Spidey shirts and a pair of his shorts.

It occurred to me that my children might easily be judged by their appearance. While things like brand names are of no importance to me at all, I don't want to seem neglectful, and I certainly don't want my kidlets to be looked down upon because of my indifference to fashion or my hopelessness at hairstyling.

On the plus side, they climbed trees, played in the sand for hours and had a glorious time, and I wasn't the least bit concerned about dirt or climbing mishaps messing up their clothes. Still, a little balance isn't a bad thing. This is an area I need to work on.

A fashion rant

Those of you who know me in real life are probably giggling incredulously already. I am one of the least qualified people in the world to demonstrate any knowledge of or regard for fashion. Until I graduated from college, I basically lived in baggy T-shirts and jeans. Once I began teaching, my wardrobe was a simple rotation of black and khaki slacks with some solid colored blouses. I could probably sum things up by saying that my interest in shoes is so minimal that the only heels I have are ones my mother passed on to me about 14 years ago, and that they have been supplemented by a pair of brown sandals and one of black for summer, as well as a pair each of black and brown boots for winter (the brown boots were also given to me, around twelve years ago).

I appreciate other people who dress well. I am not sure exactly what caused my own fashion sense to become so terribly stunted. I could blame homeschooling, or not having extra money to keep up with trends while I was growing up, but I've met many homeschooled and/or not-wealthy families that are stylishly dressed. I think it is something similar to my issue with depth perception. I just don't have an eye that puts things together that way.

So what has aroused my ire? Maternity clothes. Now, I know that if I were willing to shop at better stores (aka pay more money) I would have more options. But, this is most likely my last pregnancy, and I don't particularly want to invest a lot of money in clothes that I will only wear for a few months. I've been able to use a lot of stuff that I had before, but two of the previous pregnancies ended in winter, and I am not the same size as I was in the summer one. At home, I tend to wear extra large mens' T-shirts and sleep pants, but unfortunately, that is not considered acceptable professional attire for work. With the warm weather I've been looking for short-sleeved shirts, and my temperature has risen even higher.

I found a few blouses that had nice fabric and colors that I liked OK, but the cut! They resembled doll clothes from several decades past. I tried a couple on and looked like an extremely large two year old. Puffy little sleeves, ruffles, bows--ick. I found some others that had a more adult style, but it was a bit...too adult. Perhaps I should add that I am extremely generously endowed across the bosom. Lactation has nothing to do with size, but if it did, I could nurse septuplets with ease. I am used to having to adjust for that. As I tried on top after top in assorted sizes, they either had weird lines that came only half way down my chest, bisecting my boobs horizontally, or they were so low cut that I could have breastfed my kidlets without even adjusting my shirt at all. Yes, I am an outspoken lactavist, but I don't need to be virtually topless to do it! I even found several shirts that managed to combine all three offenses--baby doll touches with a plunging neckline still meant for someone with smaller breasts.

Finally, I just started looking in the plus size section. Some of the same problems were present there, too, of course, but I found two very reasonably priced blouses that fit perfectly and were comfortable. It was a start, at least. I need another pair of pants, though. I have a black pair that fit, but need a brown or beige pair. Who knows, maybe I might get wild and branch out. Anyone want to be a fashion consultant for me? Allow me to add that if you nominate me for What Not to Wear, I would be far more grateful than humiliated. :)

Hair today, gone tomorrow?

Photo by Betssssssy on Flickr

Summer is here, and it is time to break out the tank tops, swim suits and other hot-weather survival gear...and maybe the razor?

This is a dilemma I face every summer season now. Oh, for the innocent days of my youth when I naively assumed that being able to shave was a cool part of being grown up. I actually liked the idea back then. Of course, that was a couple of decades ago. I also wore hose/tights at times then, and had sensory issues that made the prickle of hair underneath them absolutely awful. As I've grown, I've come to see pantyhose as a demonic device, much the way most people nowadays would view torture relics from the Inquisition, and have found my freedom.

I am somewhat ambivelent, however, about embracing life as a hirsute hippy. Now, since I've had kids, I've naturally progressed towards a more, er, natural lifestyle in many respects, anyway. We practice child-led weaning, cloth diaper, don't vaccinate or circ, and generally go along with many of the other tenets of those who appreciate the way our bodies are designed. When my oldest daughter asked me why I shaved my legs, I had no satisfactory answer.

I am not usually one to do things just because "everyone else" is doing it. Besides, I have enough friends in enough places to know that not everyone finds the absence of hair more attractive.

Despite my preference for natural childbirth, I am a total wimp and would never consider anything like waxing or any other form of hair removal that could possibly involve pain, however fleeting or minor. I am sensitive to the chemicals in dipilatories, so those are out. Which leaves only a razor, and I get razor burn easily.

Somehow, though, I admit to a mild asthetic preference for smooth, hairless skin. And, TMI perhaps, but I find it easier to smell fresh and ladylike without a ton of hair, also more of a consideration when it is 100+ degrees outside.

But, I am also lazy, and not inclined to shave daily, anyhow. And with three kidlets, time alone in the bathroom is rare enough that I don't want to commit to the upkeep.

So most of the time, I compromise. I shave under my arms frequently in summer, and occasionally but not always my knees and below if they will be visible/I plan on swimming.  I won't go into details about more personal areas except to say that the occasional trim with scissors is the most I'll do there (see previous comments on waxing, et al. Ouch! I crossed my legs just thinking of it).

Yet, as I consider items to pack for this summer's trip, I sigh inwardly and wonder why, and even if, I should bother to pack a razor. Would I feel differently if I had grown up in a culture where women didn't normally shave? It is interesting to think about all the little things that go into beauty rituals across time and place. Which ones are worth passing on to my daughter?