80% of ten-year-olds are afraid of getting fat.

I just blundered onto a scary article. It certainly gives me reason to doubt the wisdom of my practice of letting Dutch paint her toenails once in a while (with phthalate-free nail polish).  I can't let her start down the road that leads to Botox treatments at 18 instead of college.*

Sometimes the prospect of parenting makes me feel exhausted. Not only do I have to keep my kid(s) sheltered, fed, educated, and somewhat safe, I also have to take some responsibility for helping them navigate an ever-increasingly complex world. Never mind the fact that I feel barely competent to navigate that world myself.

But... there's a limit to what I can (or should) do. And at least I'm not grooming her for beauty pageants. Dutch'll figure out some way to live her life, and I hope it'll be reasonably healthy for her and everyone else.  And hey, if we can keep her on a once-every-two-months phthalate-free home pedicure routine for the next 14 years, that could actually be considered a modern parenting triumph!

*Not that I actually think we'll be able to afford to put Dutch through college. We'll be lucky if we can retire before we die, let alone actually help our kids with their lives in any way.