Equine enthusiasm and body image
Dutch is officially an American girl. She loves horses and ballet.
I'm definitely for the horse thing, because she gallops everywhere, which both exercises her and makes our trips go much quicker. Also, she generates a lot of good will, because it's a pretty hard-hearted person who isn't moved to smile by the sight of a little girl (usually wearing an outfit along these lines: flowered dress, striped knee socks, and a polka-dotted long-sleeved shirt) galloping down the sidewalk with her arms extended in front of her, braids flopping behind. Actually, it's almost entirely women who smile, probably remembering their own galloping years.*
She's agitating to own a horse (which will live out in the courtyard), and to have riding lessons. She seems, however, to accept that she will never own a horse, and that riding lessons may materialize only in a distant theoretical future in which our income is much, much greater. So for now she's cool with just galloping herself everywhere.
The ballet thing skeeves me out a little, though. It's so... body-fixated. All the mirrors, and the rules, and the requirement for a perfect ballet body. For now, Dutch is having a lot of fun with it, but at some point she's going to realize either that she's not having fun any more, or that ballet won't tolerate her imperfections any more. I think I'd be much happier if she was interested really in any other kind of dancing - tap dancing? Modern dance? African dance? Square dancing? Belly dancing? Really, anything. Cook is even more skeeved than I am. Luckily, we can't really afford to keep the ballet lessons going after The Big Show in June, so hopefully this fad will fade soon.
Part of our icky feeling is enhanced by a recent unpleasant development in Dutch's daycare classroom, which is that some of the kids have started talking about how fat other kids are,** using it as a put-down. This is really hard to handle, from a parenting perspective. What are we supposed to say? My first response to her about this went more or less like this: "Kid X is not fat. And even if she is, it doesn't matter. And it can hurt people's feelings if you say they're fat. And even though it's not very good for your body to be very fat, it's not something you should talk about. And it doesn't matter what people's bodies look like. And AAAAAAGGGGHHH I can't handle this! Ask me about the economy or death or something!"
Dutch is not skinny. She's not fat, but she's got a potbelly and is by no means waifish. And she loves to eat fattening food. Given my genetic and behavioral legacy, plus the reality of modern life, she will probably never be skinny, and will struggle with her weight all her life.*** How on earth are we supposed to equip her to think about weight? How are we supposed to communicate the extremely difficult balance that it's not okay to use people's physical characteristics as a point of leverage to hurt their feelings, and Appearance Is Not Important, but that we should strive not to be fat ourselves? Since I don't think many (any?) adults are able to balance those ideas, how are we supposed to express that to a 4-year-old? Any ideas? Anyone?
This all goes along with parenting a modern American kid, I guess. But sheesh. It seems so complicated.
* I don't think men are hard-hearted, as a rule. Just not interested in galloping.
** There are a couple of kids in her class who are (very) slightly plump, but due to the demographics, it's really a very slim class, compared to the American average.
***Unless society collapses and she has to spend her days avoiding armed thugs and foraging for bugs to eat, in which case we won't have to worry about body image.
I'm definitely for the horse thing, because she gallops everywhere, which both exercises her and makes our trips go much quicker. Also, she generates a lot of good will, because it's a pretty hard-hearted person who isn't moved to smile by the sight of a little girl (usually wearing an outfit along these lines: flowered dress, striped knee socks, and a polka-dotted long-sleeved shirt) galloping down the sidewalk with her arms extended in front of her, braids flopping behind. Actually, it's almost entirely women who smile, probably remembering their own galloping years.*
She's agitating to own a horse (which will live out in the courtyard), and to have riding lessons. She seems, however, to accept that she will never own a horse, and that riding lessons may materialize only in a distant theoretical future in which our income is much, much greater. So for now she's cool with just galloping herself everywhere.
The ballet thing skeeves me out a little, though. It's so... body-fixated. All the mirrors, and the rules, and the requirement for a perfect ballet body. For now, Dutch is having a lot of fun with it, but at some point she's going to realize either that she's not having fun any more, or that ballet won't tolerate her imperfections any more. I think I'd be much happier if she was interested really in any other kind of dancing - tap dancing? Modern dance? African dance? Square dancing? Belly dancing? Really, anything. Cook is even more skeeved than I am. Luckily, we can't really afford to keep the ballet lessons going after The Big Show in June, so hopefully this fad will fade soon.
Part of our icky feeling is enhanced by a recent unpleasant development in Dutch's daycare classroom, which is that some of the kids have started talking about how fat other kids are,** using it as a put-down. This is really hard to handle, from a parenting perspective. What are we supposed to say? My first response to her about this went more or less like this: "Kid X is not fat. And even if she is, it doesn't matter. And it can hurt people's feelings if you say they're fat. And even though it's not very good for your body to be very fat, it's not something you should talk about. And it doesn't matter what people's bodies look like. And AAAAAAGGGGHHH I can't handle this! Ask me about the economy or death or something!"
Dutch is not skinny. She's not fat, but she's got a potbelly and is by no means waifish. And she loves to eat fattening food. Given my genetic and behavioral legacy, plus the reality of modern life, she will probably never be skinny, and will struggle with her weight all her life.*** How on earth are we supposed to equip her to think about weight? How are we supposed to communicate the extremely difficult balance that it's not okay to use people's physical characteristics as a point of leverage to hurt their feelings, and Appearance Is Not Important, but that we should strive not to be fat ourselves? Since I don't think many (any?) adults are able to balance those ideas, how are we supposed to express that to a 4-year-old? Any ideas? Anyone?
This all goes along with parenting a modern American kid, I guess. But sheesh. It seems so complicated.
* I don't think men are hard-hearted, as a rule. Just not interested in galloping.
** There are a couple of kids in her class who are (very) slightly plump, but due to the demographics, it's really a very slim class, compared to the American average.
***Unless society collapses and she has to spend her days avoiding armed thugs and foraging for bugs to eat, in which case we won't have to worry about body image.
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