THE "F" WORD........

No, no, no silly readers--before you go and get worked into a tizzy, gimme a chance to explain!! It is so not the real "F" word. The "F" word of which I am referring to is comprised of a mere three letters and refers most often to one's size. Got it? Now, a little side note--most of you know I rival a sailor when it comes to my lexicon of swear words, and in all honesty, I love the real "F" word. Clearly this is one of the posts my sweet girls will not be allowed to read until they're 60......but, I do have the utmost respect and admiration for the real "F" word. Seriously, I challenge you to find a word that has such a versatile purpose in our everyday vernacular. It's a total multi-purpose, multi-tasking, i'm a-workin' hard for my money kind of word--noun, verb, adjective--whatevs, dudes, it's all freaking there!!! And I love it and have to exert massive amounts of self-discipline now that my blobs are speaking creatures who repeat every.single.thing.i.say.

On to my point.....the "F" word. FAT. Fatfatfatfatfatfatfat. One of the most fricative and offensive words in the English language, and hence, (thank you Sara), a banned word in our household. The girls aren't even three yet, but I'm already worried, immensely, about the new "F" word of which I speak. Since the moment I found out, at 16 weeks, that at least one of the twinners was a girl, I have been stressing hard about this word and all the nastiness that it implies. And more so, how on earth I'm going to raise two girls who have a strong sense of self that is independent of their physical appearance. You see, I've been categorizing myself as fat since, oh, I don't know, the age of 9? This is not good when you are the mother of two daughters. Especially when you have no clue how to go about avoiding doing anything that would in any way, shape or form teach them that self-image is largely based on how pretty you are, or how itsy-bitsy your body is.

Kate and Julia aren't even 3 yet, almost, but not yet. They are obsessed with all things princess. Have I ever mentioned how much I f***ing hate Disney? I hated it before the girls, and now that I have them, I loathe it so much I could gag on my feelings. It is really cute (I grudgingly admit) to watch them dress up and pretend to be Ariel, and Belle, and all those other hooches. But it's cute because of the levels of creativity they display when ACTING like princesses. It's in the dialogue, peeps, the dia-freaking-logue.

However, Kate has now adopted a new defense mechanism when I tell her she needs to wear pants b/c it's 5000 degrees below zero. It goes something like this.....

".....but Mommy, but Mommy, I want to be a princess. I want to be beautiful, a beautiful, pretty princess. Princesses don't (said in demonic, devil-possessed voice) wear pants. (screaming) I WON'T BE PRETTY IF I DON'T WEAR A DRESS/SKIRT/TUTU."

Julia has been sleeping with her tutu and princess crown on every single night since we returned from our holiday travels.

Seriously? These are MY kids? I didn't even like playing with barbies when I was growing up so where on earth is this coming from?

It has to start now, right? The "training" of the girls so they don't grow up to be consumed by the sense of physical self-loathing that runs somewhat rampantly through my (of course, "my") side of the family. I know I can read books about it. And I have to be honest, that makes me feel a bit resentful. I should be smart enough to figure out what not to do just from my own experience. I'm a mom for Pete's sake, and mom's should innately know how to do this shit. Right? (***rhetorical question, guys). I. DON"T. KNOW.

And it worries me. This is the shit that keeps me up when I'm trying so desperately to fall asleep. One of those self-humbling things that makes me feel like I'm an actress and I'm so not equipped, or worthy, to be in charge of these two perfect and wild and gorgeously delicious girls. I don't even know where to start.

They both are already asking me if they look pretty when they put on their lusted-after dresses/skirts/girly crap. I repeatedly tell them that they look pretty ALL.THE.TIME. They're already smarter than me (takes a REAL woman to admit that, no?)......they respond with "yeah, but Mommy, but Mommy, I look realllllllly pretty because I'm wearing a..........."

I am in over my head.

And I wouldn't trade it for the world. (but i might almost consider it for a tummy tuck? KIDDING!)