Parenting
by Lyn Marinello
As
you age you understand just a smidge of your parents' woes
The
worries that they battled as each precious child grows
Work
hard for what you want and play when you are able
Say
your prayers before bed each night and keep your elbows off the table
Always
say, "Please" and "Thank you"; treat strangers as though
new friends
Apologize
when you've made mistakes; always try to make amends
Eat
up all your meat and veggies. Don't be too shy to enjoy dessert
Don't
be afraid to speak your mind, but be mindful that words can hurt
These
are simple tasks of parenting, though none of them are easy
Parenting's
not for the faint of heart or for those who are quickly queasy
As
children grow you navigate on terribly thin ice
You
hope the foundation that you've laid is solid enough to suffice
You
must build up a little ego, but not to boisterous extreme
Raise
a considerate, caring human with a bullet-proof self-esteem
You
have to teach respect but debating tools as well
Obey
the laws before you, but when wronged you fight like hell
You
tilled the earth they walk on. Set down roots to keep them grounded
Redirected
when they veered off course; offered guidance when confounded
You
padded the nest they laid in; provided a haven of safety and rest
Imparted
the passion to chase their dreams and the stamina to face said quest
You
urged them in jumping from that nest, assured you'd catch them or they'd fly
You
gave them strong and mighty wings with which to soar on high
When
they're little you protect them, but a broken heart is hard to mend
So
you sit and cry and listen, so they know you comprehend
You
hug them back together; absorb all the pain and tears
Stand
beside them undeterred as they battle down their fears
You
celebrate the victories and coach them through defeat
You
let them fall; the lesson learned, though the education's bittersweet
You've
got to let them go and make errors all on their own
You
pray they will take solace in the most basic seeds you've sown
You
can't hold their hands forever, but hearts are eternally connected
The
only true rule in parenting is that absolutely anything's expected
Without
manuals or directions we all take on this blessed task
With
nothing but each other to answer all the questions that we ask
Those
apron strings must be untied,
though the bond is never ending
Parenting;
that thankless, unpaid job is worth all the effort you're expending.
Someone recently called me “brave” for wearing a bikini to the beach because I have love handles and back fat. To be honest I don’t actually see it as bravery. This is just… my body. The c-section shelf. The bingo arms. One boob slightly bigger than the other. The suspiciously dark hair on my big toe. It’s the only body available to me, so what exactly am I supposed to do when I go to the beach? Leave it at home? But this is what years of body shaming have done to us. They’ve convinced us not only that our bodies should look a certain way, but also that our appearance is somehow the most important thing about us. We’re taught that our bodies are unacceptable until we finally “fix” them - usually through years of yo-yo dieting, guilt, restriction and self-torture, all lovingly sponsored by a multi-billion-dollar beauty industry that profits from our insecurity. And because of that conditioning, we now see people as “brave” whenever they dare expose the very parts we’ve been taught to hate, hide and apologize for. But look around you. Those supposedly “unacceptable” parts - the wrinkles, scars, cellulite, softness, stretch marks and wobbly bits - are things almost all human beings have. They’re not flaws. They’re just evidence of having a body. And a body, by the way, is so much more than what it looks like. Personally, I’m not even a huge fan of the whole “love your body” narrative because I think it puts enormous pressure on people. I don’t “love” my stomach any more than I love my right elbow. I used to think about my stomach a lot more, that’s true - mostly because I’d been conditioned to - but these days I simply have far more interesting things to think about. I don’t love my body. I appreciate it. I’m grateful for it. It carries me through life. It has birthed children, survived heartbreak, held me through grief, pleasure, illness, joy and exhaustion. It’s not good or bad. It’s not right or wrong. It’s literally just a body. Like millions of other bodies. And I’m not “brave” for showing it. To be fair, I couldn’t really hide it even if I wanted to… After all, it’s attached to my head
