"Check out my guns!" a grinning, curly-haired Alexis said.
Still clad in fuzzy PJ bottoms and a tank top, she stood in place and waited for me to admire her biceps. I complimented them as appropriately as I could while laughing because COME ON. She who started life at an oversized 9 pounds 12 ounces is currently a peanut. She's the smallest kid in her class, even as she is exactly average according to growth charts.
Her peanut status is destined to come to an end. She knows that, so she enjoys being small as much as she can. And, yet, she considers herself to be one tough peanut.
"I am pretty strong," she replied with an even bigger grin.
She turned and began to walk towards her bedroom, all the while looking at her left bicep with a smile. As she turned the corner, she began talking softly to herself, but I heard it. I heard the words.
"If only my legs weren't so fat," she said.
I froze in my tracks and then called out, "What did you say?"
"What?" she replied. "My legs are fat is all."
I argued with the 8-year old for a minute while in a state of complete disbelief. I've been so very careful her entire life to never say anything negative about my own body. I've been that good example, that bringer of positive body image, that person who accepts the good with the bad and embraces it all. What goes through my mind is one thing, but what comes out of my mouth are the words I want to hear her saying.
I don't want to hear Alexis saying that she has ANYTHING that is fat.
I don't know where this stuff comes from, but I know it's not OK.
It's time to wage war on a little girl's body image, not knowing whether anything I say or do can even make a difference.